


Spring Switch

by Nekomata58919, thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10633992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekomata58919/pseuds/Nekomata58919, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: Spring is a time for new beginnings - and Oswald's new beginning happens to throw him into our world, where Gotham is nothing but a TV show.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! To start off GobblepotSpring2017 with a bang, the keyholder and I decided to team up and write a fic together. :D The prompt we're going with is New Beginnings. ^_^ Please enjoy!
> 
> Many thanks to druxykexy for the beta!

Chapter 1

Everything was cold and dark. Dark except for the fading pinprick of light that was the sun, tinged red by blood. But that was soon gone as Oswald sunk further into the murky depths of the river. He closed his eyes, hoping death would be quick.

 Hands closed around Oswald’s own. He was yanked up and out of the water. Oswald collapsed onto the dock, coughing and hacking up water.

“Cut!”

“Robin? You okay?”

Oswald felt more hands on him and he flailed about, trying to get away. “Don’t touch me!” He gasped, trying to get a sense of himself. Oswald had thought for sure he was about to drown and now he was on dry land. And apparently not bleeding.

“You sank a bit further than expected. Here, I’ll help you up.” A hand was thrust into Oswald’s field of view and he looked up. Ed stood there, looking concerned but not at all like he was sorry for shooting him.

Oswald could only sit there gaping for a moment before rage took over. “YOU! You SHOT me!” He flung himself at Ed, clawing and scratching at his face. “After _everything_! And now you’re acting concerned!?”

“What the hell!? Robin! Robin, stop!” Ed exclaimed, trying to push Oswald off. Yet again, Oswald was being pulled about by unknown hands, but this time in restraint.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down! What’s gotten into you?” a man Oswald had not previously noticed asked.

“Who are you? Let me go or I swear I’ll kill you as well!” Oswald snarled, struggling.

The man and Ed both looked shocked. “I think you got a little disoriented from being underwater too long, Robin. Take a breather,” the man said.

“Yeah, I think this scene got a bit too under your skin. I need a break myself,” Ed said, getting to his feet. He rubbed at his face and looked at Oswald with even more worry than before. “Maybe some coffee will help?”

Oswald looked between the man still restraining him and Ed. They were both nuts! Or he really was dead and this was some strange Hell he’d ended up in. That was the only reason Ed wouldn’t fight back, certainly. Right?

“Robin?” Ed inquired hesitantly.

And then there was that. “Who are you calling ‘Robin’? What’s going on?” Oswald demanded.

Seeing that he was no longer struggling, the man let Oswald go. Now he could see that the man was wearing a black t-shirt with the word ‘Crew’ written in white letters across the back.

“I’m calling _you_ Robin,” Ed replied, looking at Oswald as though he’d grown a second head. 

            Just then, a young woman approached them, and put a blanket on Oswald’s shoulders. “Come, Robin, let’s get you into some warm clothes. I’ll take you to your room.”

            Oswald glared at Ed one last time - he would figure out what craziness this was, and then settle matters with that traitor - but he really needed some dry clothes, so he let the woman take him away from the docks and  to a trailer whose door was marked with ‘RLT.’

            “There are some clothes in the closet. Oh, and Dickie called while you were on set. He was just boarding, said he’d call you tomorrow from London.”

            For a brief moment, Oswald wondered who the hell Dickie was, and why’d he need to know about him, but then he noticed a full-length mirror on the opposite wall. He limped to it, then put his hand on his cold cheek. He was himself; he felt solid and real under the touch. Oswald then noticed the red spot on the middle of his chest, and he remembered the events at the dock. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, struggling as he went on because his fingers were trembling.

            Where the wound was supposed to be, now there was only a small scar, nicely healed and barely visible.  _ How is this possible? _ Oswald thought as he rubbed it with his fingers. He had no idea if he had died or what was this nonsense about people calling him Robin.

            The closet only had clothes Oswald would probably only use as sleepwear, but at least they were dry. He quickly changed, looking around curiously, wondering where to start snooping for clues.

            However, there was a knock on the door. “Hey, Robin, I heard you wrapped up episode fourteen today, nice job!”

            Oswald’s heart skipped a beat; Jim Gordon was peeking inside his room! “ _ Jim! _ What are you doing here?”

Jim chuckled. “Haha, very funny.”

Having become aware of the fact that his mouth had been hanging open, Oswald snapped it shut. Had Jim just laughed? He didn’t think he’d ever heard Jim laugh before. “Did you just call me Robin too?”

“That is your name,” Jim replied with a raised brow as he leaned casually against the door frame. “Or are you trying to stay in character? You do know we’re done filming for today.”

Filming? Oswald’s brows furrowed in confusion. Hadn’t someone else mentioned doing a ‘scene’? And he was in a strange trailer that looked like something a movie star might use. What in the world was going on?

“Hey, you okay?” Jim asked, approaching. “You seem confused.”

Oswald didn’t know what to say. Everything was just so overwhelming. It was too much. “I’m fine,” Oswald said, voice barely audible. “I’m fine.”

Jim didn’t seem convinced. “Did you hit your head or something when you fell into the water?”

“No, I don’t think so. Jim - ”

“Ben.”

“Ben? Ben. Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Oswald replied, faking a smile. Clearly something was not right. Perhaps it would be best to play along until he knew what was really going on.

“It’s fine. It was an emotional scene and I know how it can be after those. Take it easy for a bit, okay?” Ben said with a kind smile.

Oswald was momentarily taken aback, but he quickly nodded. “Of course. There’s no need to worry.” He watched as Ben left, then sunk into a chair. Whatever was going on, he needed to figure it out. And fast.

Sitting around in confusion would help nothing, however. Oswald thought he might at least snoop around this room and see if there was anything useful. The first thing to catch his eye was a picture hanging beside the mirror.

Oswald was surprised to see himself in said picture. Except, something was off. The him in the picture was wearing a black t-shirt, his hair was swept neatly to the side, and he was smiling happily beside a man whose arm was wrapped around his waist.

Things might be a little crazy at the moment, but Oswald would have certainly remembered having taken a picture like that! Snooping around further found him a phone, more pictures, and what looked like a script.

Oswald flipped through the script, heart beating faster the more he read. These ‘scenes’ were very familiar. He’d just lived through the words written on these pages. “This can’t be happening… I’ve been living in a television series?”

 

* * *

  
  
            Robin woke up lying on his left side, coughing up water violently. The water in the pool was much more frigid than he expected; one of the crew members had told him that it would be warmed, but something must have gone wrong. Where was everyone anyway? Why was it so quiet?

            When he looked up, he didn’t see the studio walls: he was outside, on the bank of a river, heavy fog rolling above the dark water. Robin realized suddenly how cold it was, and he embraced himself as he got up. He was absolutely alone, and he started panicking. He needed to find some help and get back to the set. He had nothing in his pockets, no money, no keys, no phone.

            He stumbled through some empty fields, no sign of anyone around. But Robin could see a road nearby, so he hurried his steps, hoping that he’d meet someone, that the whole crew would just jump out and yell ‘surprise!’. Did his coworkers sedate him somehow and get him to the bank of a river? What a fucked up thing to do.

            But then he heard the noise of a car approaching, and Robin breathed in with relief. Finally, some help. He’d get back in no time to New York. He waited patiently and then waved for the car to stop. Robin’s eyes lit up when the driver got out.

            “Ben? I can’t believe it’s you! What is this nonsense, where are we?” he asked, hurrying towards the car.

            Looking him up and down rather suspiciously, Ben’s gaze rested on Robin’s leg for a second, then he frowned. “What happened to you?”

            Robin was taken aback by the gruff voice of his coworker, but he pushed aside that thought. “Well, we were filming the dock scene with Cory, and then I suddenly woke up on the river bank? Where’s everyone?”

            However, instead of giving answers, Ben pushed on with more questions. “Dock scene? What are you talking about? And what happened to your chest, are you bleeding, Penguin?”

            “No, of course not, that’s fake blood,” Robin was getting more confused by the minute. Why was Ben acting so weird? But then he realized that the man had called him Penguin. Not Robin, but Penguin. Ben had never… Robin’s eyes widened as he noticed that Ben ‒ or whoever this was ‒ was wearing one of Jim Gordon’s suits. Were they filming a new scene he had forgotten about?

            Robin looked around again, but there was no crew in sight. Oh, shit. It couldn’t be, could it?

            “You’re not Ben,” he whispered, panic seizing his whole body.

            “No, I’m not.”

            “Are you J-Jim?  _ Jim Gordon _ ?”

            “That’s right,” Jim replied slowly, then sighed. “Get in the car, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

            Hospital? That would  _ not _ be good. “No! I mean, I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m perfectly okay,” Robin smiled. He didn’t know how he’d ended up in Gotham, but it was probably best not to cause a panic. Besides, if this  _ was _ real and he tried to tell Jim he wasn’t Oswald… Robin nearly started hyperventilating. If Jim thought he was crazy, he could be sent to Arkham!

“I think you do. You look like a drowned rat – and like you’re about to keel over,” Jim said, opening the passenger side door. “The GCPD’s been looking for you. Ed came rushing in to tell us you’d disappeared.”

Robin blinked. That’s right, he remembered the discussion about episode 15. Of course Ed was to eventually pronounce Oswald dead, not merely missing.

“Oswald?”

Robin looked up from where he’d been staring at the ground, lost in thought. Jim looked, not necessarily concerned, but somewhat worried. Trying to rack his brain for how Oswald would react he replied, “I promise I’m fine, Jim. Though I do appreciate the concern.”

Jim scowled again. “Fine, I won’t take you to a hospital.” Robin breathed a sigh of relief. “But I don’t believe you about being okay. I can’t exactly let the Mayor die out here from a concussion, so you’re coming with me. Get in.”

“Wait, what?” Robin looked between Jim and the car.

“You heard me,” Jim snapped, gesturing for Robin to get in again.

            After a moment’s hesitation, Robin did as he was told. What other choice did he have, really? Wander around Gotham by himself? That wouldn’t end well at all. Especially since it was nearly night.

            Jim shut the door and went around to the driver’s side. He started up the car and pulled out onto the road. “…So what’s the deal with your leg?”

            Robin blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

            Jim waved his hand awkwardly, as if that would elaborate. When it didn’t he grumbled. “I just mean…you weren’t limping.”

            Oh. Oh! “I just didn’t feel the pain? I was a bit distracted,” Robin replied. Then he realized he wasn’t really helping his situation; he needed to act more like Oswald. Robin frowned and turned his nose up, adding haughtily, “Not that’s it’s really any of your business, Jim.”

            The detective’s expression hardened, so Robin was sure that he’d said the right thing, what Jim expected from Oswald. He was worried that he might not be able to keep up this charade for long, but damnit, he was an actor! He was an expert on Oswald, and he’d make sure everyone believed him.

            Robin watched the dirty streets of Gotham pass by, not unlike those of New York, but somehow scarier. He didn’t understand how he was thrown into the fictional world he was playing in, but that didn’t change that he needed to get back as soon as possible. 

            As soon as they got out of the car, Robin made sure to walk with a limp. He could still feel Jim’s stare on him; he’d been very suspicious throughout the drive to his apartment as well, glancing at Robin from time to time, but not saying a word.  _ Stubborn _ , Robin thought and rolled his eyes. Jim quickly ushered Robin inside, so that none of his nosy neighbors saw him. He disappeared into his bedroom while Robin was waiting by the door, not wanting to drip water everywhere. 

            He’d never been on the set of Jim’s new apartment ‒ unfortunately, he and Ben hadn’t had many scenes lately. Which might have been very useful now, especially if Jim and Oswald had been in somewhat good relations.

            “Here, some dry clothes,” Jim said, placing them on his table. “The bathroom is that way.”

            Robin thanked him, leaning against the bathroom door once he got inside. He touched the sink and walls, but everything in there too was solid and real. Not a dream. His wet clothes were very much real as well, so he quickly changed into Ben’s clothes.  _ Jim’s _ . Oh god, he had to be more careful with the names.

            Once he was done, Robin left the bathroom. Jim looked like he was in one of his moods, staring out his window. “I assume you want to call Nygma? Let him know that you’re alright?” he asked when he noticed Robin.

            Robin’s eyes widened with terror. “Oh no, definitely not. No one must know that I’m alive, especially not Ed.”

            Jim looked confused. “Is he the one who did that to you? I thought you were friends.”

            “Long story short, he wants to kill me,” Robin rubbed his forehead. “I know this is a lot to ask, especially after everything that’s happened between us, but can I stay here?”

            Jim was watching him intently, but he didn’t answer. Robin had to try harder. “Please, Jim, I don’t know where else to go. I-I will leave as soon as I figure out what I should do next. Please.”

            Jim’s face softened a bit. “Fine. But only because I think you might have a concussion. Are you okay with pizza for dinner?”

            Robin sighed with relief. “Thank you. Yes, pizza would be perfect.” He took a seat on Jim’s couch, watching as the detective ordered their food. How would he get out of this pickle?!


	2. Chapter 2

 

            Oswald had half hoped he’d wake up in the river of Gotham. But no, he really was in a hotel room in a city that looked like Gotham but wasn’t, having managed to avoid more people that looked like those he knew but weren’t. Being nearly dead had been much simpler.

            After a few more minutes of staring at the ceiling, Oswald finally got up. It would surely be more suspicious if he stayed sequestered in Robin’s hotel room. Besides, maybe he could pull off impersonating the man. He’d certainly done enough ‘research’ last night at the trailer and here in the room.

            Oswald tried not to think too hard on how weird was that he was dressing in Robin’s clothes. But when he was finished, and when he’d combed his hair into a neat swipe to the right, he was surprised by how much he looked like the other man. Oswald frowned a bit. The only two problems would be his nose and his limp. Maybe no-one would notice?

            He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang. Oswald frowned when the name ‘Dickie’ appeared. That name was familiar... Then it came to him. A woman yesterday mentioned someone by that name having called or something. Oswald decided he might as well answer. “Hello?”

            “Morning, sweetheart!” came the laughing response.

            Oswald blinked. What? “Excuse me?”

            “You still asleep?” Dickie asked, still sounded amused. Oswald wasn’t sure how to respond. “What, don’t tell me you didn’t see who was calling? Can’t you even recognize your own husband’s voice?”

            Husband? _Husband?_ What in the world? But he had to answer something… ”Of course, I recognized it. I’m just a little tired, still, that’s all. Also, I just realized I’m late. Bye!” Oswald hung up before Dickie could respond. Crap. Fearing Robin’s husband would call back he silenced the phone and hurried from the room.

            The entire trip from the hotel to the set, Oswald couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Robin had a husband. So the man pretending to be him could get a husband, but Oswald was somehow doomed to remain single? That wasn’t at all fair! Oswald huffed and glared down at the two coffees in his hands. Maybe he’d be luckier in this universe?

            As Oswald walked onto the set, he looked around for the one person he wanted to see that day. His stomach clenched with worry until he saw that beautiful golden hair in the distance. Oswald hurried his steps, not caring about the people he pushed aside on the way or the funny looks he got.

            “Good morning, Ben! Here, I got you coffee,” Oswald smiled, handing Ben one of the cups.

            “Oh, thank you, Robin. This‒this is very kind of you.”

            Oswald smiled. Jackpot. It seemed like this universe’s Jim wasn’t really spoiled by ‘Robin,’ so maybe Oswald had an easier job to make him his friend than with Jim. He also smiled much more than that grumpy detective, so maybe changing places with this Robin wasn’t such a bad thing.

            “I have to go now, Robin, I promised Morena I’d help her with something. But see you later for the saving scene, yeah?”

            Oswald watched Ben leave, his breathing getting faster. They had a scene together that day? How amazing! He had to go back to his trailer and read the script. On his way, Oswald saw the actor playing Ed, and he glared at him, hoping that all his hate was focused in his eyes. The guy ‒ who looked so different without his glasses ‒ seemed confused by his co-worker’s hostile expression.

            As soon as Oswald made it to Robin’s trailer, he looked for the script he’d read the previous day, and eagerly leafed through the pages. He remembered Ben saying something about finishing episode fourteen, so he assumed fifteen would be next. It started with Ed announcing Oswald’s disappearance, then some bla bla about Bullock, something about that mad kid Valeska being at Arkham, and finally, the scene he had been looking for.

            Oswald read the script, and couldn’t suppress a grin. So it was Jim who’d save him! He should have known; of course, it was him. They had been bound since that cold day on the pier. How could he have been so foolish as to believe that Ed could ever replace… No, no, he wasn’t supposed to think about that individual. Oswald leaned against the couch, imagining how Jim would carry him from the water  and take care of him.

            That was when a very important question occurred to Oswald: was this Robin fellow experiencing the same things Oswald was in Robin’s universe? Would the real Jim save fake Oswald in Gotham too? What if Robin messed up? If what Dickie said on the phone was true, then Robin had a husband, and maybe he’d ruin things with Jim, because for him it didn’t matter, it was just a TV show. But that was Oswald’s life… He hoped Robin realized in time that he was in the real Gotham, not just a cardboard set.

            There was a knock at the door. “Robin, it’s time to get your costume on, then we’ll head to hair and makeup.” Oh, that was right! Oswald had nearly forgotten that would be expected. How was the make-up part supposed to work when he already looked like himself? That would be hard to explain.

            Oswald opened the door and the assistant motioned for him to follow her. Arriving at the costume department had Oswald staring in shock. These people had replicas of all his clothes! And well made, too. Not as well made as his own, of course, but they certainly weren’t cheap. How did they know everything he wore? Oswald was a tad creeped out.

            Another woman came over, holding out a replica of the suit he had been wearing yesterday. “It’s a good thing we have back-ups. Remember to bring back the other suit as soon as possible, and try not to bring it off the set with you again, okay?”

            “Of course,” Oswald replied with a strained smile. Hopefully, Robin didn’t get rid of his suit because there was no way Oswald was leaving his own here.

            Getting into costume went smoothly – though he looked a little blankly at the quarter the woman gave him. Makeup and hair were next, though. Oswald grimaced.

            People whom Oswald assumed to be the makeup artists and the hairstylist entered the dressing room and began setting up. The man looked him over and frowned. “When did you get the nose prosthetic on? Actually… I don’t remember taking it off for you yesterday. You didn’t keep it on, did you?”

            Oswald frowned. “I did no -” he stopped himself. Right, of course Robin’s nose wasn’t exactly the same as his own, and this man wasn’t insulting him. He gave a sheepish smile. “Silly me. I must have forgotten to stop by. I was a little frazzled yesterday after the last scene.”

            The man gave a hum and poked at his nose. “It’s still on pretty good. Huh. I can’t even find the seams… Don’t tell me you also kept the makeup on?”

            One of the women approached. “Robin, really? That’s such a silly mistake.”

            Oswald huffed, and glared at the man’s back as he turned to pack his kit up. “I don’t have any makeup on, thank you very much.”

            She grabbed some makeup wipes and rubbed at his face. “Oh, you’re right. How strange.”

            “Since it doesn’t look like you’ll be needing me for today, I have some others to work on,” the man announced before grabbing his kit and leaving.

            His hair was styled and his makeup was applied, and soon Oswald was allowed to leave. This couldn’t happen again. Those people would certainly become suspicious if he continued to show up with the ‘prosthetic’ still on.

            Oswald found his way back to the dock stage after a few missteps. Ben was standing beside a car and he looked just like Jim again – even down to those injuries on his head he always seemed to be sporting. This scene was going to be amazing!

            Before he could approach Ben, Robin was dragged away by one of the assistants ‒ his costume wasn’t ready yet. “You need to look as if you’ve just been dragged out of the river,” she explained as she poured buckets of water on Oswald. At least it wasn’t freezing like the river in Gotham.

            A man Oswald had seen on the set the day before came over. “Robin, we made a slight change to the script. When Ben will take you out from the water, I’d like you to come to and whisper ‘my old friend.’ Just for a moment, and then you become unconscious again.”

            Oh, so this man must be the director. “Sure, I can do that.” Oswald smirked; in the original script, he was unconscious the whole time, so he thought this change was definitely an improvement.

            The director then pointed at the place where Oswald was supposed to be lying, practically arranging his body to the desired position. Then he shouted “Action!”, and Oswald was waiting with bated breath as he heard the scrunch of Ben’s shoes. “Cobblepot?” Oswald knew he wasn’t supposed to react to Ben calling his name, but his body shuddered involuntarily.

            “Cut! Robin, remember that you’re unconscious, you only have to open your eyes after Ben turns you over and helps you cough up the water you swallowed.”

            “Sorry,” Oswald grunted.

            “Alright, let’s do this again. Action!”

            This time, Oswald did everything according to script, even though it was incredibly difficult to remain unresponsive when Ben was asking whether he was alright.

            “Cut! That was great!”

            The assistant came over, and offered Oswald a glass of water. He wasn’t thirsty, but he thought it would be rude to refuse if someone offered him a drink.

            “No, don’t drink it! It’s for the scene, you’re supposed to cough up some water,” she explained.

            “Oh, right,” Oswald murmured, then kept the next sip in his mouth.

            “Action!” the director yelled again, and then Ben checked Oswald’s pulse. He started pushing his chest, and Oswald briefly considered the possibility of letting Jim do the mouth-to-mouth breathing, but he knew he had to cough up the water.

            “That’s it, Oswald,” Ben said, his hand on his coworker’s shoulder, holding him as Oswald heaved water.

            Ben was about to help him get up, and Oswald knew this was his moment to say his line. “My old friend,” he whispered, voice hoarse, choked with emotion. His hand grabbed onto Ben’s forearm, holding it tightly. He knew very well that he had to let go, but the next words just ran out of his mouth: “My hero.”

            “What?!” Ben mouthed, eyes widening in confusion.

            “Robin, no improv! This is supposed to be a serious moment!” shouted the director, causing Oswald to blush. “Let’s try again.”

            Oswald gave a put-upon sigh. “Yes, of course. Sorry.” Ignoring Ben’s baffled expression, Oswald returned to the ground. His leg was _not_ going to appreciate this.

            The third time seemed to be the charm. Oswald did his best to go through the script – though, honestly, it was not too difficult. He _was_ Oswald after all, so who better to play him than himself? Not only that, Ben did an amazing job as Jim. So amazing, in fact, that Oswald had to remind himself that it was not actually him.

            When they ended the scene with Oswald lying on the examination table of some mob doctor, he was disappointed. He knew there hadn’t been many scenes, but he’d hoped it would have lasted longer. Pouting, Oswald limped off the set.

            “Robin!”

            Oswald looked up to see the Ed look-a-like approaching, smiling cautiously. “What?” he snapped.

            The man’s smile disappeared. “Did I do something? You’ve been kind of off since the whole dock scene…”

            Okay, so maybe he’d been a bit rude. This man wasn’t actually Ed, but it was difficult not to take out his anger and hurt on him. “You’ve done nothing. I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” The apology felt fake, even to him, though.

            “I guess the scenes have been stressful. Oh! Hey, I have an idea!” The man beamed and once again Oswald was reminded of Ed. “Why don’t you go hang out with Camren a bit? Maybe doing that silly dance of yours will make you feel better?”

            “Dance?” Oswald asked, frowning.

            The man nodded. “Yeah, you know, that ‘Yes’ dance thing.”

            “Right… sure…” Oswald grimaced. “And Camren is…?” This wasn’t good.

            It was like a light bulb went off above the Ed imposter’s head. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “You… you aren’t Robin, are you? There’s no way you wouldn’t know – Who are you?”

            Oswald looked around wildly. Luckily, no-one else had been around to hear that. He looked back up at the man. “What makes you think I’m not Robin?” he asked, knowing full well his act had been seen through.

            The man frowned. “You attacked me! And then you didn’t even really apologize, and instead have been glaring at me at any given chance. Not only that, but you just asked me who Camren is! If you’re Robin, then tell me, what’s my name?”

            Oswald grit his teeth. “Fine! I’m not Robin. Happy?”

            “No! Who the hell are you?” the man demanded.

            “You won’t believe me.”

            “Try me.”

            “I’m Oswald Cobblepot.”

 

* * *

 

            Robin couldn’t say that he slept well on Jim’s lumpy couch, but it was definitely better than roaming the streets of Gotham at night. He’d lain awake for several hours, thinking about how he’d gotten in this mess. The last thing he could remember from his world was the filming of the dock scene, with Cory shooting him and then him falling into the pool. Something must have happened there.

            It seemed that Jim wasn’t faring better either ‒ Robin could hear as his bed creaked whenever Jim tossed and turned. The detective woke up quite early, and then went to the bathroom, shower sounds filtering through the door. Robin thought it’d be better if he woke up too ‒ he dressed and made the bed, then sat quietly.

            He wondered how much havoc the real Oswald wreaked in New York. Robin really hoped that he had no access to guns or anything else that could be used as a weapon. He thanked every god that Dickie had a shooting overseas, because he would figure it out in the fraction of a second that Oswald wasn’t Robin. He was sure that the people on set would soon realize something was wrong as well, and maybe they could keep Oswald far away from everyone else. If only Robin could send a message to Cory or Ben…

            Meanwhile, Robin also had to think about how to proceed in this universe. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he had to leave Jim’s apartment. Maybe he should start with finding Gabe, he would surely know about some hideout. Then they could try to make discreet inquiries about people who would know about magic, and hopefully switch places with Oswald before one of them caused trouble in the other’s world.

            Robin was roused from his thoughts when he realized Jim was standing in front of him. He looked up to see Jim frowning.

            “You okay?” Jim asked gruffly.

            “Yes, why?” Robin replied, tilting his head a bit.

            Jim put his hands on his hips. “You looked like you were spacing out a bit. I’m still not convinced you don’t have some sort of concussion.”

            Robin shook his head and stood. “I promise I’m perfectly okay, Jim. Actually, I was just thinking that I ought to go.”

            “Go?”

            “I appreciate your help, Jim. But I can’t stick around, and I’m sure you’re busy,” Robin said, heading for the door.

            “Oswald, wait. Where do you think you’re going to go?” Jim demanded, moving to stop him.

            “To find Gabe. And then… I’ll figure out how to make my comeback. After all, people think I’m missing or dead,” Robin replied. His eyes narrowed and he smirked. “I have to make the proper entrance, after all.”

            Jim grimaced and looked like he wanted to protest. “You could at least eat something before you go.”

            Robin glanced dubiously at Jim’s kitchen. If he had been in poor health, eating anything from that kitchen certainly wouldn’t help. “Thank you, but I can eat later. I don’t want to bother you any longer. Good bye, Jim.” Robin slipped past him and out the door.

            As Robin walked down the street, he realized something. He had no-way of contacting Gabe. Not only did he not have a cell phone, he didn’t even know Gabe’s number. Robin pressed a palm to his forehead. “What a mess.”

            And he didn’t have money for food! Robin felt so stupid. In his haste to get out before Jim got suspicious, he hadn’t even come up with a proper plan of action. Robin considered going back, but that would just look even more suspicious. If this were the set, he could easily make his way to the Van Dahl Manor, but it wasn’t. He had no idea where to go to get to anyplace familiar.

            So Robin wandered aimlessly, keeping his head down, the hoodie he was wearing offering him a bit of privacy, though it wasn’t the best disguise. It also wasn’t protecting him very well from the harsh wind whistling through the empty streets of the city, rolling litter on the pavement. Robin looked at the overcast sky, hoping that it wouldn’t rain. He was so screwed.

            Being invisible proved to be rather easy for Robin, especially when most passers-by thought he was a beggar in his simple clothes. He hunched his shoulders, hoping that he would turn even smaller and no one would pay attention to him. He wondered whether he should ask for directions, but he’d rather not speak to anyone.

            Unfortunately, what started out as a drizzle soon turned into a heavy rain, and Robin ran, trying to find a place where he could stay somewhat dry. He finally saw an alley; it was probably the back of the Greek restaurant that was on the main street. There was a tiny alcove where Robin huddled himself up as best as he could, praying that the rain would stop soon.

            In his haste to get to a relatively dry place, Robin hadn’t been prudent enough. He failed to notice the two thugs that had been following him for a couple of blocks, who noticed an easy target. They towered over Robin and looked at him expectantly. “Your wallet, little man.”

            “Wha-what?” Robin scrambled to get away, but the two youngsters stood in his way, so escape was impossible.

            “Are you deaf? Give me your wallet and anything else of value,” the guy on the right said, pushing Robin for good measure.

            “But I don’t have anything!”

            “Yeah right,” the other thug held up a knife. “Open your pockets.”

            Robin was shaking as he showed the two guys his empty pockets, fearing that they would gut him in their anger at not finding anything. How great, Robin thought, he’d die within two hours of leaving Jim’s apartment. He flinched when one of the thugs pushed him against a wall, shamelessly feeling for anything Robin could be hiding.

            “What the hell, my man?! No phone? Nothing?”

            Robin looked down, shaking. “I’m sorry. I was robbed. I think.”

            The two thugs let go of him, the one who searched Robin’s pockets whispering into the other’s ear. “Listen, little man, here are two bucks,” he pushed the two crumpled bills in Robin’s hand, who was still shaking. “Get yourself a coffee or something warm.”

            With that, the two youngsters left, running through the rain and quickly disappearing behind a corner.

 

* * *

 

 

            Robin shook his head. That was close! He could have so easily been killed and no-one would have ever known. Something brushed against his leg and Robin nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked down to see a tabby cat rubbing up against him.

            “Mrrow?”

            Sighing in relief and pushing his hoodie back, Robin knelt down and held out his hand. The cat sniffed his fingers before butting its head into his hand. “Hello,” he cooed to the cat, scratching behind its ears and under its chin. The cat purred in reply and Robin grinned.

            “I never took you for much of a cat person.”

            Robin looked up to see Selina crouching on a fire escape, watching him curiously. Momentarily forgetting himself, he stood, beaming. “Cam – I mean, Cat!” Robin schooled his features quickly. “I don’t mind cats. I let _you_ into my employ for a time after all.”

            Snorting, Cat jumped down to the ground and sauntered over. She scooped the tabby from the ground and petted its head. “I heard you were dead.”

            “That’s clearly not the case,” Robin replied stiffly.

            “Well, Fish was supposed to be dead too, and she came back. How do I know you aren’t some freak now?” Cat asked with a smirk.

            Robin frowned, acting affronted by the question. “I’m not a freak, thank you very much,” he snapped.

            “Oswald!”

            Robin and Cat turned to see Jim standing at the end of the alley. “Jim?”

            “Well, looks like your boyfriend’s here. See ya later, Penguin.” Cat waved at Jim before wandering off.

            “What are you doing here?” Jim demanded, storming over.

            Robin couldn’t help but be relieved. Things had been going so horribly and now Jim was here. Was this how Oswald always felt? “I could ask you the same.”

            Jim’s jaw clenched. “You just ran off. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t noticed you didn’t have a phone or wallet with you.”

            “Oh.” Robin blushed. “So why are you here?”

            “To bring you back, obviously,” Jim grunted, rolling his eyes. “Come on.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

 

           Oswald held back a protest as the man practically dragged him along to his trailer – upon which Oswald spotted the name ‘Cory Michael Smith.’ Once inside, Cory rounded on him.

           “You expect me to believe you’re actually Oswald?” he demanded.

           Oswald lifted his chin defiantly. “And who else would I be? You don’t think I’m Robin.”

           Cory shook his head. “No, but you could be an insane fan.”

           “Excuse me!?” Oswald lunged into Cory’s personal space, practically snarling, “I am NOT insane.” He was not insane, was never insane, and he would be damned if he let this guy tell him he was.

           Cory took several steps back, hands up. “Alright! Then how did you get here, if you’re the real Oswald?”

           Oswald glared at him for a few moments before deigning to answer. “I don’t know.”

           “You don’t know?” Cory echoed.

           “That’s what I just said,” Oswald snapped, crossing his arms. “One minute I thought I was drowning in the Gotham River, the next I was being hauled out here.”

           Cory’s brow furrowed. “That’s it?”

           “Yes,” Oswald replied. “I don’t know how I ended up in this strange reality. Just that it happened.”

           “So then you don’t know where Robin is?” Cory asked. He seemed upset.

           “I’m sorry, but no, I don’t.” Oswald watched as Cory became more distressed.

           “Then he could be dead… Or what if he’s in the real Gotham?” Cory exclaimed, grabbing Oswald’s arm. “He wouldn’t survive long in Gotham.”

           Oswald glanced down at Cory’s hand and extricated himself from his grip. “Or… he could be perfectly fine. If we have switched places, I imagine he’d be able to act like me. Not that that would be safe for him either, but I don’t think assuming his imminent death is going to get us anywhere.”

           Cory took a deep breath. “You’re right. But... This is all too strange.”

           “Agreed,” Oswald huffed.

           “…Well, at least now I know why you’ve been acting like you hate me. I was worried I’d done something to piss Robin off,” Cory said with a strained half-smile. “You do know I’m not really Ed, right?”

           Oswald rolled his eyes. “Of course I know. But it’s a little hard not to react negatively to someone who looks like the man who shot you.”

            “I guess that makes sense,” Cory replied, looking uncertain. “So does anyone know about this?”

           “No, I don’t think so. At least I haven’t told anyone,” Oswald said. “I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

           “Good. We don’t want to alarm the others,” Cory sighed. “Just try to be friendlier to everyone, okay? And please act less like yourself.”

           Oswald grimaced. “I’ll try.”

           The two men looked up when there was a knock on the door. “Hey, Cory!” Oswald stiffened as no other than Victor Zsasz peeked inside the room. “Robin! It’s good that I caught you both here. We were thinking about going out tonight for drinks, would you guys like to join us?”

           Oswald saw the panic in Cory’s eyes, and he smirked. “Of course, it would be our utmost pleasure.”

           Zsasz ‒ or whatever he was called in this universe ‒ chuckled. “Alright then, see you later!”

           “What was that about?! Didn’t I tell you to behave?” Cory exclaimed.

           “You told me to be friendlier to everyone, so why wouldn’t I accept such an invitation? Robin would, right?” Oswald smiled when Cory rolled his eyes. “See you later… Cory.”

         

           Later that day, when everyone wrapped up filming, some of the cast members went to a nearby bar which seemed to be their regular place from what Oswald could tell. Unfortunately, Cory was not letting Oswald out of his sight, so he couldn’t really talk to anyone else. Not that he really wanted to talk to Barbara, Butch or Tabitha (well, the actors playing them ‒ Oswald still didn’t know their real names).

           Despite Cory being so eagle-eyed, Oswald still managed to worm his way through people, so he could sit beside Ben. Unfortunately, Cory found an empty seat just across from Oswald, and judging by the way he was glaring at Oswald, he was not happy with the situation. Oswald couldn’t care less, though, and smiled innocently at him.

           At first, things were going very well. Everyone ordered drinks, and conversation flowed naturally. Oswald even learned some new names, and laughed at their jokes. How strange it was that everyone was getting along so well in this universe! They were all so happy and nice, he wished it would be like this in his own world too. Without noticing, Oswald just kept ordering drinks to the point where he was so tipsy, he was laughing at everything.

           “Oh, Jim, you tell the funniest stories,” Oswald giggled several minutes later, practically draping himself over Ben’s shoulders.

           “It’s Ben. Jeez, you must be really drunk,” Ben remarked with a shake of his head and a snort.

           Oswald waved him off. “Yeah, whatever.” He downed another drink and wrapped his arms around one of Ben’s.

           “Robin, maybe you should let go. Who knows what Dickie would think if pictures got around,” Cory said, frowning even harder than before.

           Oswald blinked owlishly. “Who?”

           Cory shot a panicked look towards Ben. “Haha, very funny,” he said, grabbing Oswald’s arm. Cory tried to pull him away, but Oswald had a firm grip on Ben. “You’re not drunk enough to forget your husband.”

           “Husband? Pff, I’m not married,” Oswald replied, batting Cory’s hands away. Suddenly, he felt very sad. “I don’t think anyone would want to date me, let alone marry me.”

           “What are you talking about?” Ben asked, eyes wide. “How many drinks have you had?”

           Oswald peered up at him. “I dunno… not many… like four or five or ten.”

           Cory finally succeeded in prying Oswald away. “Okaaayyy, time to go, obviously.”

           “Noooo,” Oswald whined. “Don’t drag me! I can walk.” He pulled away, stumbled, and steadied himself against a table. “See? Besides, I don’t want to go yet. I want to talk to Jim more.”

           “No, you don’t,” Cory insisted, trying again.

           Oswald frowned and pulled away. “Stop! You’re just jealous, Ed!”

           Oswald’s ‒ or rather Robin’s ‒ phone started ringing then, Dickie’s picture appearing on the screen. Ben was looking confusedly at Cory then at Oswald.

           “Oh, you’d better answer that, Robin,” Erin said and the whole table laughed.

           “I think not,” Oswald answered, following it with a resounding hiccup which made the others laugh even harder. While Oswald was distracted by everyone talking at the same time, Cory finally managed to drag him away from the table to the bathroom.

           “What was that?! Didn’t we agree that you’d behave?! Jesus, Oswald, you shouldn’t have had so much to drink.” Oswald was watching Cory pace up and down while he washed his face with cold water in an attempt to sober up.

           “I’m a grown man, I can do whatever I want,” Oswald countered.

           “Like hell, you can! This is Robin’s life you’re messing up. I don’t care what you do with yours—”

           “You never cared about anyone, but your selfish self!” Oswald yelled back, gripping the sink as a sudden dizzy spell overtook him.

           “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not Ed! And I don’t know what’s with your weird fascination with Ben, but you must knock it off. He mustn’t know about this.”

           “I mustn’t know about what?” Cory and Oswald looked up in panic. Ben was standing in the door, staring expectantly at both of them. He locked the door, then looked at them again. “I just came after you because Robin’s phone kept ringing. Also, you were both very odd at the table.”

           “It’s okay, Ben, I got this,” Cory said with a nervous smile, but Ben wasn’t buying it. Before he could say anything, however, the phone started ringing again.

           “Robin?”

           “I think it’s better if I handle this, right?” Cory asked, looking at Oswald who nodded. “Hi, Dickie! How are you? Yeah, everything’s fine. Listen, Robin can’t talk now. We went out and he really missed you, so he drank too much. He’s pretty much asleep now, haha. Yeah, I’ll take him home, he’ll be fine. He’ll call you tomorrow! Bye!”

           Ben stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “There’s something weird going on, and I want to know what.” His frown disappeared. “Please?”

           Oswald looked from Ben to Cory and back again. What were they supposed to do? If Ben was suspicious, there’s no way he’d give it up. At least, if he was anything like Jim he wouldn’t.

           For an actor, Cory’s grin was incredibly unconvincing. “Nothing weird is going on. We’re all just a bit drunk, right?” he replied, trying to laugh it off.

           “Really, Cory?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow. “If it’s going to affect things on set, I think I should know what’s happening.”

           Oswald opened his mouth to explain but Cory slapped a hand over it. “I’ll explain, since you’re in no state to,” Cory said. Oswald sighed and rolled his eyes. Cory let go and rubbed his temples. “Okay, fine. There’s not much to explain since neither of really know how this happened either.”

           “How what happened?”

           “…That’s not Robin. It’s Oswald. The, uh, real Oswald,” Cory said, looking highly uncomfortable in Oswald’s opinion. “Somehow he showed up here. We don’t actually know what happened to Robin.”

           Ben’s eyebrows were so far up his head Oswald wouldn’t have been surprised to see them disappear right into his hair. Or maybe he had had one too many drinks. “You’re joking.”

           Cory threw his hands up in the air. “Yes, because that would make total sense!” He frowned. “Why would I be joking?”

           “He’s telling the truth. Though I think Robin and I may have switched places,” Oswald said, unable to stay out of it any longer.

           Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. “You really expect me to believe that a fictional character –“

           “Hey!”

           “ – and Robin switched places?” he asked.

           “Yes,” Cory replied.

           Ben stared at them for a few more moments before shaking his head. “Well, I guess that explains ‘Robin’s’ behavior lately.”

           Oswald pouted, pushing himself from the sink to limp closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

           Cory snorted and Ben shot him a look. “You’ve been more than a little friendly to me. Not that Robin and I aren’t friends, but…” he made a vague gesture with his hands. “Well…”

           “You’ve practically got hearts floating around your head,” Cory supplied helpfully.

           Oswald was sure he was blushing fiercely, and not just from the alcohol. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hadn’t been doing anything weird. From what he’d gathered, Robin was incredibly friendly, so he’d just been trying to be him. Of course, Ben was very nice and looked just like Jim, so how could Oswald not be happy to interact with him? He felt a little sick.

           “Oswald?” Cory was looking at him with a worried expression.

           “I...I think you both ought to excuse me.” Oswald turned and stumbled into a stall, slamming the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

           Robin sighed when Jim cranked up the heating in the car ‒ he hadn’t even noticed just how damp his clothes had gotten while idling outside. The ride was quiet, though Robin didn’t expect anything different from Jim, so he just focused on the kitty, petting his soft fur absentmindedly. Gosh, he missed Finn! And Dickie, of course. This madness had to be reversed somehow.

           When they entered the apartment, Jim finally spoke. “Bring the cat to the kitchen. I think I have some milk left.”

           Robin hoped that it wasn’t spoiled, and as if Jim could read his mind, he tasted it. “It’s still good.” He dug around in his cabinets for a small bowl in which to pour the milk, and put it in front of the kitten.

           “Come on, try it,” Robin encouraged it, and smiled when the tabby licked the milk.

           Jim sat down at the kitchen table, looking rather troubled. Robin suspected that he wanted to say something, so he joined him at the table, keeping his eyes on the kitten.

           “After you left, I watched the news. Nygma declared you dead.”

           Robin bowed his head. Well, at least Ed believed that the wound had been fatal, so maybe he didn’t have to fear for his life.

           “You never told me what happened between the two of you.”

           “It’s complicated,” Robin hastily replied, hoping that his tone and grimace were characteristic enough. Judging by the way Jim narrowed his eyes, he believed the anger ‘Oswald’ displayed to be genuine. But then Robin remembered how Jim had practically saved him, and he couldn’t be nasty to the man, he just couldn’t.  “Ed is mad at me, because he thinks I hurt his girlfriend.”

           “And did you?” Jim crossed his arms.

           “Of course not!” Robin exclaimed. It was true, though, _he_ hadn’t killed Isabella. It had been Oswald. Though the fact that Jim thought him to be Oswald was another story… Robin couldn’t decide whether Jim believed him or not.

           “So what’s your plan?” Jim asked, looking at Robin intently. “Is there someone you trust who could help you?”

           “There’s Gabe, but I don’t know how to contact him. I don’t know his number,” Robin admitted reluctantly, knowing that the real Oswald would never have this problem. “I think you were right and I might have hit my head when I fell in the water after all.”

           Jim looked satisfied that his theory was proven. “You’re absolutely certain that he’s trustworthy?” When Robin nodded, Jim went on. “Alright, I’ll try to find him then, and let him know that you’re alive. You stay here. Don’t open the door, don’t answer the phone.”

           With a last glance at Robin and the kitty, Jim walked out the door.

           Robin sighed and rapped his fingers against the table top. The kitten mewed and hopped up onto the table to nudge at his hand. He laughed and scratched the kitten’s chin. “So, kitty, what should we do? I suppose I ought to think of a name for you too…”

           The kitten flopped onto its side and batted at his hands. Robin allowed it as his gaze traveled around the apartment. It really was filthy in here. Empty – and half-empty – bottles and cans of alcohol were littered about the place. Not only that, but it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in, well, ever.

           “Might as well,” Robin muttered. He pulled his hand away from the kitten, which gave a whiny meow in return, and set to work.

          

           By the time Robin was satisfied with his work, it was dark out. He was just about to sit and relax with the kitten, whom he’d named Milo, when the door opened and Jim came in.

           “What in the hell?” Jim asked, eyes wide as he took in his surroundings.

           “Welcome back, Jim,” Robin greeted, limping over to Jim. He’d remembered at one point to stick a quarter in his shoe. That way he wouldn’t need to try and remember to fake a limp anymore. “I hope you don’t mind, but I cleaned the place up a little.”

           Jim blinked at him. “ _You_ cleaned?”

           Robin huffed. “Yes me, who else would have?”

           “Just…Wait, what exactly did you clean?” Jim demanded, rounding on Robin, suspicion causing him to frown.

           Robin held his hands up defensively. “Nothing personal of yours! Just the living area mostly, and the kitchen.” Jim continued to stare him down. “I only got rid of the empty alcohol bottles and cans, an old pizza box, and brought out the trash. Also whatever it was in the back of your fridge that was forming its own ecosystem.”

           “Oh.” Jim rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “You didn’t have to.”

           Robin smiled. “I know, but I wanted to. Besides, if I’m going to be spending any length of time here, I’d at least like to not have to worry about contracting some disease.”

           “Hey, it wasn’t that bad!” Jim protested, crossing his arms.

           “It was, honestly,” Robin replied with a laugh. He caught Jim staring at him and quickly schooled his features. Crap, he was being too much like himself. “I’m sure you’ll find a cleaner house more enjoyable to spend time in anyway.”

           Jim nodded. “Yeah, I guess so….Thanks.”

           “No problem. So, did you manage to find Gabe?” Robin asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

           “Luckily, I did,” Jim said as he sat down on the sofa, petting Milo who was sleeping beside him. “He’ll come over in a couple of hours. I hope you don’t mind.”

           “No, of course not!” Robin exclaimed. “He can tell us more about the, uh, current situation, so that I know how to proceed.”

           “Alright. He seemed very happy and relieved when I told him that you were alive.”

           Robin smiled. “He’s a good man. Very trustworthy. But you don’t mind him coming here?”

           “Well, what other option did I have but to invite him? You shouldn’t go outside, can’t risk anyone seeing you and then telling Nygma.”

           “That’s very… considerate of you, Jim.”

           The detective just shrugged. “I assume you want to keep the cat?”

           “Please, if you don’t mind. Milo’s really friendly.”

           “Milo?” Jim asked, and Robin could have sworn Jim almost smiled. “Okay, I’ll find him a box.”

           Robin sat down, pleased that he could keep Milo. Jim returned a few minutes later with a larger shoe box and made it more comfortable with an old blanket. Milo was still sleeping on the sofa, though, so Jim placed the box in the corner. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Jim squared his shoulders and drew his gun, stepping carefully to check who it was. When he made sure that it was Gabe, he quickly opened the door and beckoned Oswald’s henchman in.

           “Boss, it’s really you!” Gabe cried out, picking Robin up and whirling him around in the air. “I thought you were dead!”

           Robin laughed. “Gabe! I’m glad to see you too! How are you?”

           “I’m fine now, boss.”

           Jim looked as if he was about to run away, to give them some privacy, but Robin stopped him. “Jim, please stay. You’ve helped me so much, you deserve to hear what Gabe has to say.”

           After a moment’s hesitation, Jim nodded.

           Robin smiled at him before turning his attention back to Gabe. “So, what can you tell me about what’s going on out there?”

           “I waited at the mansion like you said. At first. When Nygma said you died, I told some of my friends to look after the place so I could look for ya. I didn’t want that guy stealing your mansion if you weren’t really dead,” Gabe explained.

           Robin was impressed. He knew Gabe was loyal to Oswald, but he hadn’t imagined him to be quite _so_ loyal. It was a nice thought, knowing Oswald had someone he could rely on. “Thank you, Gabe,” Robin said. He narrowed his eyes, then, remembering his role. “Those friends of yours, are they trustworthy? I don’t want anything of mine stolen or trashed.”

           “Of course, Boss. I made sure they knew that,” Gabe replied.

           “…It sounds like you didn’t trust Ed,” Robin remarked after a moment. He knew that Olga hadn’t liked Ed, but how many others had seen what Oswald couldn’t?

           Gabe looked a little uncomfortable. “You want me to be honest?” Robin nodded. Gabe frowned a little. “I could tell he was no good, Boss. I’m sorry I didn’t say nothin’, but you really liked having him around so…”

           Robin patted his arm. “I don’t blame you, Gabe. Trusting Ed was Os – my fault.” That got both Gabe and Jim to look at him oddly. “What?”

           Jim shook his head. “Nothing.”

           “No, what?” Robin insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

           “…I wasn’t expecting you to blame yourself and not someone else,” Jim said evenly. However, his expression said he was waiting for Robin to explode at him.

           “Well, now that I think about it, I suppose I really should blame Ed,” Robin replied.

           Jim frowned. “You’re planning on killing him, aren’t you?”

           “What? No! I mean…” Robin shifted and fixed a glare on Jim. “I’d rather see him suffer. Death would be too nice.”

           Jim shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that… But if you want him locked up in Arkham to rot forever, I’ll help you.”

           Robin pretended to think it over, then smiled deviously and extended his hand. “Alright, deal.”

           Jim looked curiously at him for a moment, then shook his hand with a small, but content smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! We're back! So, so sorry for the delay, we hope you won't have to wait this long for the next chapter. Please enjoy!
> 
> Many thanks to druxykexy for the beta. :)

           Oswald groaned and buried himself deeper into his bed. Why did he have to wake up? His head hurt like crazy! Actually, overall he just felt like crap. He cracked open an eye. Shutting it with a hiss at the bright morning light, he rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head. Hangover. That’s what the crappy feeling was.

“Good, you’re awake,” came Cory’s too loud voice.

“No ‘m not,” Oswald grumbled. The covers were rudely ripped away, and he turned to fix a glare on the culprit. “Just what do you think you’re doing!?” Oswald spat.

Cory raised an eyebrow. “I’m making sure you get up. We need to talk about what happened last night.”

“Last night?” Oswald frowned as he slowly sat up.

“With Ben,” Cory clarified.

Oh, right. Oswald buried his face in his hands. How embarrassing. “Must we?”

Cory huffed. “Yes. But I suppose you can eat first. I got you breakfast.”

Oswald peered over his fingers. On a table was a plate of eggs and toast along with a bowl of cut up bananas. Beside the food was a cup of tea.  “Well, I suppose I can humor you.” He stumbled to his feet and limped over to the table to grab the food.

           As Oswald dug in, Cory sat across from him. “You’re lucky Ben agreed to keep the fact you’re… _ you _ a secret.” When Oswald didn’t respond, he continued. “Also, you really need to remember, we aren’t our characters. I’m not Ed and Ben isn’t Jim.”

           Oswald shot him a petulant look. “As if you’d be any better if you were in my position.” He sat back and dabbed a napkin at his face. Oswald sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I do know you aren’t Ed and Jim. Both of you are too nice to be.”

            “Oh…” Cory’s brows furrowed and he rested his chin in his hand. “Look, I know this isn’t your fault. I guess I’ve been a little on edge myself. Robin and I are great friends and I’m worried about him.”

           Of course. Everyone was friends with Robin - everyone _ loved _ Robin. But Oswald was Oswald, and like always he wasn’t wanted. “We’ll get things back to normal. I’m sure there’s a way to fix all this, if it happened in the first place,” Oswald said with a fixed smile as he patted Cory’s arm.

           Cory smiled and nodded. “I agree, there needs to be a way to fix it.”

           Oswald hummed. “I’ll think about it. Maybe Robin will find something sooner than us. Anyway, I think I’ll go back to bed if you don’t mind.”

           “Actually, it’d be better if we called Dickie first. He must be worried after yesterday,” Cory said as he looked for Dickie’s number in Robin’s phone. “Remember, don’t say anything suspicious and just be nice to him.”

           Oswald rolled his eyes. “Do they use any endearment terms?”

           “Umm, I guess ‘sweetheart’?” Cory said hesitantly, handing the phone to Oswald. “It doesn’t matter, just reassure him that everything’s alright.”

           “Robin! You’re up already? I thought you were going to sleep till noon.”

           “Hi… sweetheart,” Oswald greeted Dickie hesitantly, and he glanced at Cory who nodded his head in approval. “I would have liked to sleep, but Cory here woke me up to have breakfast.”

           “That’s nice of him, taking care of you. I heard you got pretty smashed last night,” Dickie laughed heartily.

           “Ugh, it was a very bad idea, my head is going to explode soon. But everyone was so nice and I just kept drinking.”

           “I’m glad you had a great time, though. Take an aspirin for your headache and go back to sleep, honey. Drink lots of water.”

           Oswald’s heart clenched painfully; even though he’d never met Dickie before, Oswald knew he must be a wonderful man who loved Robin immensely. What a lucky man he was! “Thank you, Dickie. You’re too nice to me.”

           Dickie laughed. “Nonsense. I have to go now, my lunch break is coming to an end. Take care, okay?”

           “You too.”

           “Love you!”

           Oswald swallowed and mumbled a “love you too”, avoiding Cory’s eyes. If only he could stop feeling envious of his parallel universe self’s perfect life. “I’m off to bed,” he announced to Cory, not waiting for a reply.

           Oswald woke again in the afternoon, feeling much more refreshed and human. Fortunately, his headache was gone as well. He looked for some clean clothes in Robin’s wardrobe and put them on before leaving the bedroom.

           “Cory? Why are you still here?” Oswald asked when he noticed Cory sprawled on the sofa and watching TV.

           “Well, I didn’t want to leave you alone,” Cory said as he looked up. “I thought we could go for a walk or something. I could show you the city if you’d like.”

           “Oh… That’d be really nice, thank you,” Oswald replied. “You know, I’ve never been to New York. I mean, the other New York…in my universe. Not that I’ve been to this one either. Ugh, I’m not making any sense.”

           Cory laughed. “I know just the right place we could go to.”

 

           Oswald and Cory stepped out of the small ice cream shop and went to sit on the bench outside.

           “I wasn’t expecting a trip to get ice cream,” Oswald remarked. “Not that I’m complaining.” While Cory had gone with a cone, he had opted for a cup – cones were so messy. Oswald had chosen a flavor that had smoked dark chocolate with caramelized white chocolate ganache. It was absolutely delicious!

           “Ice cream makes everything better, didn’t you know?” Cory replied with a laugh, enjoying his extravagant flavor with pink guava and chili lime plantain chip.

           Oswald gave a little hum of agreement as he took another bite of his ice cream. “I’ll have to remember that.”

           “Is that them?”

           “I don’t know, go see!”

           A whispered conversation caught Oswald’s attention, and he glanced surreptitiously around. A little ways off was a group of three girls and they were looking at him and Cory. One of the girls approached.

           “Hey, um, sorry to bug you but… Are you Cory Michael Smith and Robin Lord Taylor?” the girl asked, biting her lower lip.

           “That’s us,” Cory said with a friendly smile. Oswald nodded and smiled as well, wondering what the heck was going on.

           The other two girls rushed over as the first grinned. “OmygodIcan’tbelieveit!” one of the girls exclaimed, nearly bouncing up and down.

           “Gotham is our favorite show!” The first girl said.

           “Can we take pictures with you guys?” the third asked. She blushed. “You know…if you aren’t busy.”

           Cory turned to look at Oswald. “I think it should be fine, right, Robin?”

           “Of course,” Oswald replied hesitantly. For some reason, the show having fans hadn’t really even crossed his mind. But he supposed it made sense.

           Oswald and Cory stood and the girls gathered around them and pulled out their cell phones. He plastered on a huge grin even as he noticed Cory throwing his long arms around his shoulder and one of the girl’s shoulders.

           The girls snapped their pictures and squealed happily. “Thanks so much!” one of them said.

           “Yeah, you two are so cool!” the third one gushed.

           “Aw, thanks,” Cory replied.

           “I just have to say, Robin, you made Penguin one of my favorite characters!” the second girl said, beaming at Oswald.

           “What?” Oswald blinked. Had he really just heard that?

           “And of course, Cory, you play the BEST Ed,” the first girl added.

           “I’ve never been into DC or comics, for that matter, but the show is really interesting. Look, I even have a GCPD wallet,” the third girl added with a smile.

           “She only started watching the show because of Ben, though,” her friend commented impishly. “We’ve been telling her to watch it for months, and she always waved us off. Then she realized Ben was in it, and suddenly she became a big fan.” 

           Oswald laughed; he couldn’t blame the girl. Ben was incredibly handsome.

           “I’ve liked him since The O. C., he was really cute in that show.” Her friends nodded.

           “Can you tell us anything about the upcoming season?” 

           Cory looked at Oswald as if to signal that he was going to answer that. Oswald was glad; he wasn’t sure which part of his life corresponded to which season. In fact, it annoyed him that his life could be compressed into some episodes.

           “Ed and Oswald’s paths will cross again, but I cannot tell you how,” Cory replied. “In fact, you’ll find that every character is in a strange place at the beginning of the season and they need to fight their way out of it.”

           “Robin, we saw some pictures of Oswald’s mayoral campaign a few days ago. Will he be successful?” one of the girls asked, turning to Robin curiously.

           “Well, of course-”

           “AH AH, you’ll have to watch the show in order to find out,” Cory interrupted Oswald, panic welling in his eyes. “It will be very exciting, I promise.”

           “We can’t wait!”

           “Before we go, may I have a request? Robin, would you please sign my notebook? My brother is a huge fan of yours.”

           Oswald took the notebook and the pen the girl offered him. “What’s his name?”

           “Ryan.”

_            To Ryan. All the best, Oswald Cobblepot. _

           “Don’t forget to add your real name too,” Cory said, a smile forming on his lips.

           Oswald was just about to make a snarky remark when he realized that these girls thought he was Robin, so he quickly signed with his doppelganger’s name too.

           “Thank you so much! Have a nice day! Bye!”

           “Bye!”

           Oswald and Cory had been walking for a while when Cory suddenly started laughing.

           “What?”

           “I just imagined the girl’s face when she finds out that her autograph is false. Robin’s signature looks nothing like what you scribbled on there.”

 

* * *

 

 

           “You sure about this, Boss? Edwidge’s a creepy lady,” Gabe said, looking down at Robin with a small frown.

           “Yes, I’m sure,” Robin replied, resisting the urge to pat his arm comfortingly. Gabe’s concern was nice, if probably unwarranted – in this situation anyway. “You don’t have to worry, Gabe. You’ll be on standby if anything seems suspicious.”

Gabe nodded. “Okay… You’re the Boss.” He turned and lumbered out of Jim’s apartment.

Robin sighed and knelt to pet Milo who’d been pawing at his leg demandingly. Hopefully Edwidge would be able to help. The strange lady was the only one Robin could think of that might have some ability to get him back to his world; however, he didn’t know for sure if she could or would.

           It was getting a little late, so Jim would probably be back soon. If he hadn’t gotten caught up in solving any nasty crimes anyway. “Well, I suppose I could try to cook something. What do you think, Milo?” Robin asked his furry friend.

The kitten mewed at him and ran off.

           Robin laughed. “I’m not bad at cooking, there’s no need to run. Sheesh!” Shaking his head, he stood back up. “Now…what to make?”

           “ _ What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play! _ ” Robin sang, spinning over to the stove to stir the pasta. “ _ Life is a cabaret, old chum! So come to the cabaret! _ ” He shimmied to one of the cabinets and took out some herbs.

           Cooking was a lot more fun when Robin could sing show tunes. Honestly, he’d had the songs from Cabaret stuck in his head a few days before this whole debacle happened. Hopefully singing one now would help them go away.

           “ _ Come taste the wiiiine! Come hear the baaand! _ ” Robin didn’t hear the front door opening as he shook his hips and finished up dinner. “ _ Come blow your horn, start celebrating; right this way your table’s waiting! _ ” He froze in front of the table, plates in hand.

           Jim stood, wide-eyed, just inside the room.

           “Oh god!” Robin exclaimed, setting the plates down before covering his face in embarrassment. “How long were you here?”

           “…Not long. Just, uh…” Jim seemed unable to come up with an answer. He tried again, and ended up just opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Then Jim laughed.

           It took a moment for Robin to get over the shock of Jim laughing. “Don’t make fun of me!” He pouted. Robin was sure his face was beet red.

           Jim shook his head and took a deep breath to calm himself. “I wasn’t, I swear. It just wasn’t something I was expecting to see when I walked in.”

           “Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Robin said as he returned to cutting some vegetables for their salad.

           “Oh, you didn’t have to,” Jim said, but he peeked inside the kitchen with interest. “What are you preparing?”

           “Some chicken parm with salad on the side. I didn’t have a lot of options, you really need to stock up.”

           Jim practically inhaled the food, as if he hadn’t had anything to eat in days. Robin was watching him with amusement and couldn’t help but laugh out loud when Jim looked up with a piece of lettuce hanging out from his mouth.

           “What?” Jim asked, oblivious.

           Robin continued laughing and just poured some soda in their glasses, not noticing Jim watching him with a strange expression on his face, as if he wanted to reach out, but at the same time keep his distance too.

           Jim had a sip of his drink. “Oswald, I wanted to ask you something, but I am not sure how.” Jim only glanced at Robin once who started panicking. “Forgive me that I bring this up and I hope I won’t offend you, but you seem so… _ different _ . I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s you, I know it has to be you, but you’re…kinder? Softer? Just different.”

           Robin could not utter a word, but he was sure that Jim could see the fear on his face. “Jim, I-I-”

           “No, no, I apologize, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Jim stated and patted Robin’s shoulder.

           Robin buried his face in his hands. He should just confess, there was no point in lying. Jim had seen that he was not insane, so if he knew the truth, he could really help Robin then. “Well, no wonder you’re Gotham’s best detective. You’re right, I’m, well, I’m not Oswald. Not the one you know anyway.”

           To Jim’s credit, he just leaned against his seat, looking at Robin with a look that was probably reserved for suspects.

           “I’m not from this world. I don’t know what happened, but I guess I changed places with Oswald,” Robin said carefully.

           “Where do you come from then? Is it a dangerous place?” Jim asked flatly.

           “No. Well, I mean, it’s a lot safer than Gotham. Oswald should be fine, I’m worried about the other people actually,” Robin replied. 

           “So who are you then?”

           “My name is Robin. Robin Lord Taylor. I’m an actor and I play Oswald Cobblepot in a TV show called Gotham.”

           “ _ What _ ?!” Jim exclaimed, his cool demeanor gone.

           “I know, this must sound crazy, but-”

           “Crazy?! It’s impossible.”

           Robin sighed. “Well, just a few days ago I also thought that Gotham was just a fictional place.”

           Jim shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense. How do I know you aren’t lying? Or that that dunk in the river didn’t scramble your brains?” He stood. “I knew I should have taken you to the hospital.”

           “I’m not lying, I swear! And I’m perfectly fine,” Robin insisted. Well, he hoped he was fine. Honestly as far as he knew this could be some weird hallucination - but he wasn’t telling Jim that. And anyway, how was he supposed to prove he was telling the truth? “Wait!”

           Jim was approaching him from the other side of the table, expression unreadable. “Oswald..”

“No, wait. Jim, remember when you asked about the limp?” Robin asked, holding his hands up defensively.

           ”...Yeah,” Jim replied.

           “That’s because I don’t have a limp. Oswald does but I’m not Oswald,” Robin said. He removed his shoe and dumped the quarter out, then put it back on. Walking around, he showed that he was missing the limp. “See?”

           Jim lips thinned into a straight line, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed Robin by the front of his shirt and peered closely at him.

           “Jim, I’m telling you the truth.” Robin looked up at Jim, eyes wide and innocent.

           Slowly, Jim let go and took a step back, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “How? How did this happen?” He looked surprised, and almost a little sad.

           Robin shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m hoping to figure that out.”

           Jim’s expression hardened. “Well, until it’s figured out, you aren’t leaving.”

           “What?”

           “You said you’re an actor. I’m guessing you don’t actually know how to fight and you probably have never killed anyone,” Jim pointed out. “So Gotham isn’t safe for you. And if this all is going to be sorted out, and you’re going to go back to wherever and Oswald is going to get back here, I’m assuming you both need to be alive. I’m not going to let you get killed.”

           “I… Well, I guess you’re right,” Robin admitted quietly and placed the dirty dishes in the sink. “Well, now I wish my role would have required some training, but Oswald usually uses a gun.” 

           “And his mind,” Jim added.

           “Well, I’m nowhere near as astute as he is. I’m sure he’s doing well in my place.”

           Jim looked as if he was going to ask further questions, but he just wished Robin good night and retreated to his room. He probably had a lot to think about.

           The next day, Robin woke to insistent meowling coming from nearby. He blinked sleepily and turned, Milo taking his chance to sit on his chest and meow even louder.

           “I heard you the first time, Milo, no need to be so pushy,” Robin groaned, grabbing the cat gently as he got up. “You’re hungry, aren’t you? Let’s get you something.”

           Robin knew that Jim’s fridge was rather lacking in food, but he was horrified when he couldn’t find anything for Milo, who was circling Robin’s legs impatiently.

           “Okay, guess I’ll have to go to the corner store and buy some milk for you,” Robin said and put on a hoodie. “I’ll be quick,” he said to Milo, but also to reassure himself. He knew he was supposed to lie low. Such a short trip would not pose any danger.

           Robin felt only slightly comforted by the privacy the black hoodie and sunglasses afforded him, but it was a better disguise than nothing. He quickly grabbed a jug of milk and paid for it. Everything went smoothly and he hurried on the street with his head lowered. Unfortunately, he didn’t notice the sudden appearance of a man in black suit and bumped right into him.

           “So sorry!” Robin quickly said and pushed the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.

           His blood went cold in his veins as he stared at the man in front of him: it was Victor Zsasz. Unfortunately, this man was a real assassin, unlike his counterpart in the real world.

           “Cobblepot?”

_            Oh crap. _

           “Nope, you’re mistaking me for someone else,” Robin said and scurried away, unaware of Zsasz following him with narrowed eyes.

           Robin practically ran to Jim’s building, leaning against the apartment’s door when he got inside. Jim was going to beat him for his foolishness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we posted another chapter! And not just any chapter. The second to last chapter! So, please enjoy (and forgive us for taking so long).
> 
> Thank you a thousand times over druxy kexy for betaing this!!

             Oswald smiled sweetly up at Ben as they walked off set. “I may not know much about directing, but I think you did very well with it.”

             Ben chuckled. “Thanks. I’ve always wanted to try it. You’ve been doing a lot better pretending to be Robin...being you...This whole thing is still confusing.” He shook his head with a bemused grin.

             “Trust me, I’m just as confused. I’m trying not to think about it too hard,” Oswald agreed. He wondered if Jim’s laugh sounded the same as Ben’s. Their voices were almost exactly the same - except Jim tended to growl more.

             “Yeah?” Ben replied. He looked about to say something else when a new voice cut in.

             “Robin! You’re late! Working too hard as always, I see.”

             Oswald’s heart stopped. His jaw fell open. It couldn’t be. His mother was approaching him with a bright grin and a teasing spark to her eye. Before Oswald could even comprehend his own actions, he was running in the opposite direction.

             “Os-Robin!” Ben called after him.

             Bile threatened to rise in Oswald’s throat. Tears ran freely down his cheeks. His leg ached when he finally stopped running. Oswald leaned against a wall, gasping. It wasn’t his mother. It wasn’t. Logically, Oswald knew the woman was, more than likely, an actress. But logic wasn’t functioning properly right now.

             It was worse than seeing the “ghost” of his father. Oswald hadn’t known him long, but he’d lived for thirty years with his mother. He pressed his hands to his eyes.

“Oswald?” Oswald’s head snapped up. Ben was nearly panting as he came over. “There you are. What happened? Wait - are you crying?”

Heat spread through Oswald’s cheeks. He tried in vain to wipe away his tears, but more kept coming. “Go away.”

           “You know that’s not actually…” Ben trailed off, a sympathetic frown furrowing his brows. 

             “Yes, I know that!” Oswald snapped.

             Ben flinched. “Sorry.” 

             Oswald shook his head, already regretting snapping at him. He turned away and curled in on himself. This would all be much less embarrassing if Ben would just go.

             A hand landed on his shoulder before pulling him around and into a hug. Oswald’s eyes widened and he went completely still as his chin rested on Ben’s shoulder.

             “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how much it would affect you seeing Carol. I should have told you about her,” Ben murmured, rubbing Oswald’s back.

             “Carol?”

             “Yes, her name's Carol Kane. She and Robin always had great fun on set and they stayed friends. They go out for lunch quite often.”

             Oswald gripped Ben’s shirt tighter, closing his eyes in the hopes that his tears would stop. “That’s...that’s really nice.”

             “She’s very nice and sweet, you’ll like her,” Ben assured him and for a second, Oswald let himself imagine that it was Jim embracing him. The strong arms, offering him safety. But then Oswald breathed in and the smell was all wrong, it shattered his illusion. Ben’s cologne was expensive and reminded Oswald of coconut, completely different from Jim’s smell of leather, whiskey and minty cologne.

_              This is not Gotham and the man in front of you is not Jim _ , Oswald thought and then let go of Ben, sending him a sad smile. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest. “Thank you. I’m sorry for running away, it’s just seeing her… I really didn’t expect it.”

             “It’s alright, don’t worry,” Ben said as he helped Oswald to his feet.

             “I assume we have to go back?” Oswald asked, dusting his suit and wiping his face. “I have to think of a reason why Robin would run away.”

             “Just say you really got into the role and thought you were seeing your dead mother,” Ben advised as they walked back to the set.

             Oswald flinched, but nodded. He  _ was  _ seeing his dead mother. He took a deep breath and put a smile on his face as they approached his mother’s look alike. “Carol!” he said expansively, opening his arms. “I apologize for my reaction earlier, I was still in Oswald’s headspace and when I saw you, I just ran away. Instinctive reaction.”

             “Oh, darling,” Carol kissed Oswald’s cheek, then rubbed away the lipstick marks. Oswald looked at her with wet eyes, the gesture so painfully familiar, it felt like someone was stabbing his heart repeatedly. “I always told you you’re working too much. Right, Ben?”

             “You’re completely right, Carol,” Ben agreed, laughing. “I’m afraid I’m slightly to be blamed for it. I’m also directing the episode we’re currently working on and I think I pushed him too much. So if he says something funny, it’s because of sleep deprivation.”

             Oswald laughed with them, but he looked at Ben, hoping that the man could see how grateful he was for providing an excuse in case Oswald would slip up.

 

* * *

 

             Carol beamed at Oswald from where she sat across the table from him. Oswald had followed her to a rather small, but fancy looking restaurant in Brooklyn. Despite that, it seemed reasonably priced.

             “Now, Robin, did I tell you about the new show?” Carol asked, flipping through her menu.

             Oswald frowned a bit. “New show? No, I don’t think so.” This was very weird. She looked so much like his mother, and yet every time she spoke, he felt jarred. 

             “I can’t say too much about it, you understand how it is, but I think it’ll be a good one. A comedy of course! I can’t seem to get away from them.” She laughed.

             A waitress approached, interrupting them. “Hi, I’m Ginny and I’ll be your waitress for today. Can I start you off with something to drink?” Her voice was nasally and Oswald had to fight to keep from making a face.

             “Yes. We’ll have gin martini’s please,” Oswald said. While he’d never been especially fond of gin himself, mother had been. She always kept some at home, even if Oswald had tried to change her mind about it.

             Carol blinked at him. “Really, Robin? Gin? Actually, I’d rather just have a margarita, if you don’t mind.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think you liked the stuff.”

             The waitress nodded and jotted it down. “Do you need a few moments to decide on lunch, then?”

             “That would be appreciated,” Oswald mumbled, silently cursing himself.

             “Robin, dear, are you okay? I know Ben said you’ve been overworking but you seem upset,” Carol inquired, leaning forward across the table to touch his arm.

             Oswald nodded. “I’m perfectly fine, Carol. Just…” He shrugged helplessly, unable to even think of what to say. Instead he made a point of trying to decide on lunch.

             Carol patted his hand. “Well, if you feel like talking, you know you can talk to me.” Her smile was warm and motherly. It made Oswald’s heart ache. 

             The waitress returned with their drinks a few minutes later. “Ready to order?”

             “Yes, I’ll have the reuben toastie, please,” Carol said. She grinned at Oswald conspiratorially. “Don’t tell my agent. Says I need to watch my figure.” Carol rolled her eyes.

             Oswald grinned, unable to help himself. “Not a word,” he promised. Turning to the waitress, he placed his order. “Just the regular burger please.”

             “A side of truffle fries for the both of us,” Carol piped up. “Trust me, they’re amazing.”

             “Alright, I’ll be back with your order soon,” Ginny said with a smile, leaving Oswald and Carol alone.

             “How’s Dickie? I think the last time I saw him was at that dinner party before Christmas.”

             Oswald stared at Carol for a second before he realized that she meant Robin’s husband. “Oh, Dickie! Yes, yes. He’s fine, filming a movie overseas.”

             “Oh, that’s fantastic!” Carol said, sipping her margarita. “What is the movie about?”

_              Damn _ . Oswald didn’t have the slightest clue. “It’s, umm, about this man who, uh, accidentally falls in love with someone he isn’t supposed to. With practically his enemy.”

             Carol had the same expression on as his mother when Oswald only shared a crumble of information and she’d want to hear more about it. “Go on.”

             “Well, he…he accidentally travels to this other world, where almost everything is much better. You know, his world is an evil and bleak place.”

             “A dystopian world?” Carol asked, seemingly very interested in the story.

             Oswald swallowed. “Yes, I suppose so… The interesting thing is that he meets all his friends and even his love interest in this other world, and they are all very kind and sweet, unlike the people back home.”

             “But let me guess, he feels lonely and wants to go home,” Carol added with a sigh.

             “How did you know?”

             “Well, the other world sounds ideal, but it is not where the man belongs, right?”

             Oswald nodded. “Guess so. From what Dickie told me, even his love interest is strange, even though he is nicer, he still yearns for the one back at home.”

             “Aww, this movie sounds like it will tug at my heartstrings,” Carol said, briefly squeezing Oswald’s fingers. “Tell Dickie I said hi and that I’m looking forward to meeting him when he comes back.”

             “I will. Maybe we’ll make a dinner party or something,” Oswald said out of politeness, really hoping that he wouldn’t be in that universe by the time Dickie came home.

             “Oh, that would be lovely!”

             Just then Ginny returned with their lunches. “Here you are, reuben toastie for the lady and burger for the gentleman with truffle fries. Enjoy your meal!”

             “Thank you,” Carol and Oswald said at the same time, and Oswald giggled, warmth spreading in his chest. 

             The food was delicious, especially the fries were incredibly flavorful - salty, savory, with just enough hints of garlic and parmesan. Oswald hoped that if he ever made it back to Gotham, he would make sure that his favorite restaurant would put it on the menu. 

             Luckily, the conversation was easy during lunch and Oswald felt more comfortable, though his brain had trouble comprehending the discrepancy between his mother’s image and how she spoke with an American accent. It was comforting to see her again, but also harrowing.

 

             When it came time to part after the ride back to the set, Oswald found himself feeling rather unwilling to see Carol go.

             “I had a fantastic time as always, Robin,” Carol said, pulling him into a hug. “Remember to take breaks every once and awhile. Okay?”

             Oswald nodded, relaxing into her embrace. She smelled like fancy, yet subtle, perfume. “I’ll remember.”

             “Good! Next time we ought to go out with Paul. I’ll invite him if he doesn’t sneak himself on set beforehand,” Carol laughed, stepping back. “He’s been hoping to convince the writers to have Oswald’s father show up again somehow.”

             “Oh.” Oswald felt slightly sick. There was no way he’d be able to handle seeing not only his mother’s double, but his father’s. He needed to find a way back to Gotham soon if he was going to remain sane. Oswald plastered a fake smile onto his face. “That would be great.”

             Carol nodded enthusiastically. “Maybe a flashback with the both of us? Hmph. Well, anyway, I’d best be going. See you later, Robin.”

             Oswald waved as she left. 

 

* * *

  
  


             Robin watched Milo sleeping on the couch. Despite being a kitten, he still managed to take up all the space. Robin smiled and shook his head. He supposed that decided things then; he would get some fresh air instead of binging on daytime television. 

             Jim had told him not to go anywhere. Did the roof count in that? Robin shrugged and strolled out through the back door. He’d rather deal with Jim’s potential tantrum than go stir crazy. Robin climbed the firescape and up onto the roof. 

             It was a little chilly out, but Robin almost didn’t care. The view of Gotham was amazing. Well, it probably wasn’t the best view, but given that he was used to sets and CGI to see the city, it was nice.

             Robin walked across the roof, breathing in the sort-of-fresh air. He looked up and could just barely make out the sun behind all the clouds. Hopefully it wouldn’t rain or snow soon. It was kind of hard to tell what season it was right now.

             “I never thought I’d see the day! Penguin wearing a t-shirt.”

             Robin whirled around, eyes wide.

             Victor Zsasz grinned at him from the top of the firescape. He strode closer, gun pointed at Robin’s chest. “Looks good on you, I have to say.”

             “What are you doing here?” Robin’s voice shook more than he wanted it to. He’d been going for angry and superior, and instead just sounded pathetically frightened. 

             Victor stopped a few inches away. “Running an errand.” He smirked. “Nothing personal.”

_              Thwack! _

             The gun collided with the side of Robin’s head. The world turned blurry as the ground rushed up to meet him.

 

             “Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!” Robin heard. He wanted to tell the owner of the familiar voice to be quieter, but he could only produce a groan.

             “Faster, if possible,” the same voice said, tone free of the sugary quality from before.

             “Erin, leave me alone,” Robin murmured and wanted to turn on the other side of the bed, but he found that he couldn’t move. What was going on?

             “Who the hell is Erin? Zsasz, how hard did you hit him?”

             “Not that hard, just knocked him out a bit. You told me to keep him here till you got here. So my job is done.”

             “Yes, you can leave.”

             Robin managed to open his eyes slightly, just in time to see Victor swiftly jump onto the firescape with a little wave. He was still on the roof, albeit tied up now.

             “Glad you finally deigned to open your eyes, Ozzie.” Robin’s blood ran cold when he realized that he was now alone with Barbara. “So, how’s life?”

             “Been better,” Robin replied, eyes darting around the place, trying to figure out a way to escape.

             “To be quite honest, you look less dead than I would prefer,” Barbara added as she crossed her arms. “I knew I should have done the job myself and not entrusted Ed with killing you.”

             Robin huffed, his hands feeling around the ground. “Well, I can’t say the same.”

             “Shut up!” Barbara yelled, suddenly pointing a gun at Robin. She must have hid it in the pocket of her fur coat.

             Robin bit his lip as his fingers bumped against something sharp and tried not to flinch at Barbara’s tone. She looked like a hurricane that was about to ravage the city, the madness barely contained in her eyes.

             “Listen, there’s no need to kill me,” Robin said as calmly as possible. “I don’t want to take O- my old place back. I’m tired of fighting. Just let me go.”

             “As if,” Barbara sneered. “The Penguin I know would never surrender. So, what kind of game are you playing?”

             “I’m not playing any kind of game, I just want to be left alone and recover.” Robin was sure that Oswald would kill him for these lies he was telling in his name, but he didn’t care. He needed to keep himself alive somehow until he could cut the tape Zsasz had tied his wrists with.

             “Yeah, right. That’s why you’ve been hanging out at Jim’s place, huh? Bet you and your little buddy are planning a huge strike. You two always had this weird connection.”

             Robin figured the best thing to do would be to keep Barbara talking. “Why would you want to kill me? I know why Ed would, but I thought we got along fine before.”

             Barbara scoffed and shifted her stance, placing one well manicured hand on her hip. “I’m tired of being second best, Ozzy. That was reason enough to want you gone. Maybe not dead - I was actually thinking a coma. They’re quite relaxing, you know?” She laughed. “But then, because of  _ you _ , Tabby got her hand chopped off!”

             Crap. Robin hunched in on himself. This wasn’t going well. “It’s not like I knew Ed would go that far.”

             “Don’t give me that crap!” Barbara hissed. “You’re still pissed she killed your  _ precious mommy _ ! Of course you’d want Ed to hurt her.”

             Robin watched as she waved the gun around. His eyes widened as it settled on the point between his eyes.

             “So, any last words?” Barbara asked, glare cold.

             Robin squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t believe he was going to die here! What would Dickie do when he found out Oswald wasn’t him? He wouldn’t know where Robin had gone, that he was dead!

             “Stop right there!”

             The sound of a gun going off had Robin’s eyes shooting open. Jim had tackled Barbara and was attempting to wrest the gun from her. “Jim!?”

Jim dropped the gun, reeling back from a sharp slap across the face, Barbara’s nails leaving faint claw marks over his cheek.

             “You’re interrupting, Jim! That’s not very nice of you,” Barbara spat. Her attention was focused on Jim now, unaware of the gun having slid towards Robin’s legs.

             Robin finally got the tape off his wrists and scooped the firearm up. 

             Barbara smirked at Jim. “Though, I can be forgiving. If you want to do -” She collapsed with a short gasp.

             Robin frowned down at her from where he’d struck her. “That’s enough out of you for today.” He tossed the gun aside. Hopefully, she’d wake up later with a giant bruise.

             Jim looked up at Robin, rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks.”

             “You’re welcome,” Robin grinned and took Jim’s hand, helping him up. He was proud of himself; despite Oswald’s violent ways, Robin never really had to learn any fighting moves. But looking at Barbara just lying there made his pulse race. Oh god, what had he done.

             “Don’t worry, she’ll wake up in a couple of hours.” Jim said, touching the side of his head. That was when Robin noticed that Jim was hurt. “Oh no, you’re bleeding. Let’s go back to your apartment first and take care of that before we, uh, decide what to do with Barbara.”

             “Oh, I thought that was your voice I heard, Boss.” Just then Gabe appeared by the firescape, looking confused at the mess on the roof. “Are you okay?”

             “Yeah, I’m fine, Gabe. Jim needs to take care of his wound, though. Do you perhaps have any good news for us?”

             “Yeah, yeah, I just came by to tell you that Edwige is ready to meet you anytime.”

             “We should go there right now,” Jim said as they were descending the firescape back to his apartment.

             “Yes, certainly. Things have definitely sped up with Barbara knowing about me,” Robin said and tried not to look scared. Hopefully Edwige would manage to get him back to New York before anything terrible happened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Sorry about the late update, but we're back with the last chapter and epilogue! Happy reading, please let us know what you think. :)
> 
> Major thanks to druxykexy for the beta and the encouragement!!! :D

        Robin set the first aid kit on the dining room table. He’d insisted on patching Jim up before they went to see Edwidge; after all, it wasn’t like she would be all that difficult to reach now that they knew where she was. A few minutes wouldn’t change that.

        “I’m fine, really,” Jim said, though he sat anyway.

        Robin raised an eyebrow. “Maybe, maybe not. But I’d feel better knowing that cut’s been taken care of. Consider it a thanks for helping me back there, okay?”

        Jim blinked and nodded. “Okay, then.”

        Smiling, Robin took out an antiseptic bottle and a small bandage. He got to work, humming quietly to himself.

        “So...” Jim started, his tone tight and awkward, “you’re an actor who plays Oswald. So...what’s the guy who acts as me like?”

        Robin grinned. “I was wondering if you were ever going to ask about that.”

        “It’s hard not to be kind of curious,” Jim replied, shrugging. “Especially considering you know more about me than I ever will about you.”

        “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right,” Robin said thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t mind telling you about Ben and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either.

        “I guess the first thing is that his name is Ben Mckenzie. He’s really such a nice person, you know? Considering Gotham was the first really big project I’ve done, I’ve been so excited, but also really nervous? Especially the first few days on set. Well, anyway, so we were shooting that scene on the pier – you know, the one where you pretended to shoot Oswald and pushed him into the river?”

        Jim nodded. “Right.”

        Robin continued as he put the bottle back into the first aid kit. “That scene was especially nerve-wracking, you know? But Ben was so patient with me, and he made me feel a lot more at ease. That’s one of my favorite scenes because of that, actually. Really, he’s such a lovely person.”

        “Of course, he is,” Jim said, not meeting Robin’s eyes. “I guess he has a nice life too?”

        Robin watched Jim with a curious expression, wondering whether he should reveal personal details about his friend. “He’s married and has a daughter.”

        “Good for him.” Jim clenched his jaw as he got up and grabbed his gun from the table. He motioned at the door. “Coming?”

        “Yes, yes, of course,” Robin said with furrowed brows, confused about what made Jim suddenly so disgruntled.

 

* * *

 

        Gabe drove Jim and Robin to Edwige’s house. It was quite far away from Jim’s place, on the outskirts of the city, in a neighborhood that the detective wasn’t familiar with. Gabe parked in front of an old, dark house that didn’t look very inviting.

        “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jim asked Robin as they got out of the car.

        “No, but I don’t really have a choice. I can’t stay here.” Robin saw the strange look Gabe shot him, but he pretended not to notice. “Gabe, wait for us here,” he said in his best authoritative Oswald voice.

        Jim and Robin walked to the door and rang the doorbell. Robin smiled at Jim’s pinched face. “Hey, it will be fine.”

        “It’d better be,” Jim grunted, then suddenly squared his shoulders as Edwige opened the door. She studied them for a couple of moments before inviting them inside.

        She led them through a dark corridor into a room that was hard to take in at once. It was cluttered with all kinds of strange-looking objects, from stuffed animals and dried plants, to crystals and jars with dubious contents. Jim looked just as mystified as Robin felt when their eyes met.

        Edwidge pointed at the chairs around the table. “Please, sit down.” After they were all settled, she finally asked them. “So, gentlemen, what can I help you with?”

        Robin told her his incredible story, fearing that it might be met with disbelief, but Edwidge didn’t seem shocked in the least. She listened to everything with great attention and only had one question at the end. “When did this switch between you and Mr. Cobblepot happen?”

        Robin looked at Jim for confirmation. “About five-six days ago, right?”

        “Yes, on the 20th. That’s when I found him by the river,” Jim replied.

        Edwidge’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “Thought so. Do you know what was on that day?” At the clueless expression on the men’s faces, she smiled. “The Spring equinox. The water acted like a portal between the two dimensions and you swapped places.”

        Robin exchanged shocked looks with Jim. “Please tell me you can undo this change somehow.”

        “It is possible to reverse it. But not for much longer,” Edwidge replied.

        “What do you mean not for much longer?” Jim demanded.

        Edwidge frowned. “Exactly what I said. And don’t take that tone with me, boy.” Her calm demeanor returned. “Had you come to me after the end of the month, it would have been too late.”

        Robin let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Gabe had found her so soon. “Then can you help us?”

        Edwidge eyed him curiously. “I can. For a price, of course.”

        Jim growled and surged forward. Robin grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Jim, please calm down.”

        “How much?” Jim asked through gritted teeth.

        “I don’t want your money,” Edwidge huffed, waving a dismissive hand. She pointed a knobbly finger at Robin. “You. I want something from your world.”

        Robin blinked. “What?”

        Edwidge smiled. “You explained that in your world, this world is a television show.” She leaned across the table. “That means your world knows what will happen here. I want that knowledge.”

        Robin’s eyes widened. She wanted to know the future; but how much of it? And what would happen if she knew? That sort of knowledge could be very bad for this world. Then again, it could be helpful. Besides he needed to get home. “I can do that, but it might take a while to tell you everything I know.”

        Jim turned to him. “Wait, you actually know what’s going to happen here?”

        “Well, sort of?” Robin replied with a sheepish smile. “It’d be difficult to explain.” An idea struck. He looked to Edwidge who was watching with an unreadable expression. “I can get you something from my world. Well, not me personally, but if we had a way of communicating with my world, I could get Oswald to bring it?”

        Edwidge’s brows rose, intrigued. “There may be a way to speak with him. If he agrees, then we’ll have a deal.” She stood and left the room.

        Robin could feel Jim’s eyes on him still.

        “How much do you know?” Jim asked.

        “Like I said, it’s difficult to explain,” Robin replied. He swept his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know everything that’s going to happen immediately. More like, things that happen a lot later, you know?”

        Jim crossed his arms. “No, I don’t know.”

        Robin sighed. “This -” he waved a hand “- in my world is a prequel to a bigger story. I don’t exactly know what’ll happen in this story. But I know what happens in the later stories, sort of. That’s the best explanation I can give you.”

        Before Jim could ask more questions, Edwidge returned with a large bowl of water and a book, both of which she set on the table. “Come here, both of you.”

        Robin and Jim approached her.

        Edwidge grabbed Robin’s hand and pulled a needle from her pocket. She pricked Robin’s finger and squeezed it over the bowl.

        “Ow! What are you doing?” Robin winced as blood dripped quickly into the water.

        “Shush!” Edwidge snapped. She released him and flipped open the book, then began to read aloud in a language Robin didn’t understand.

        “This better not be a hoax, or...” Jim growled, but suddenly fell silent when the smooth surface of the water started rippling, concentric circles forming in the middle as more colors appeared and the blurry spots came into focus.

        Jim and Robin leaned forward as the image became crystal clear and sounds started to filter through as well. Robin instantly recognised the place: it was his trailer and it looked like they managed to gain a view over it through the mirror.

        Two figures were standing in the middle; at first Robin had trouble believing it, but it was Oswald and Ben, seemingly engaged in a highly emotional discussion.

        “I hope I didn’t ruin things, but she looked so much like her,” Oswald said, looking rather dismayed.

        “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Ben said, his hand on Oswald’s shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly.

        “Oswald? Is that you?” Jim interrupted the intimate scene, making both Oswald and Ben flinch with his irritated tone.

        “Jim? Jim!” Oswald exclaimed, limping to the mirror, eyes wide and sparkling. He sat in the vanity chair.

        Robin could swear that Oswald had been crying which made him slightly concerned. He hoped everything was going well with Oswald and that no one had upset him…which could result in unfortunate consequences. While Jim and Oswald were busy staring at each other, Ben came to the mirror as well, smiling at Robin. “You okay?”

        “Yeah, yeah, Jim here got me out of trouble.”

        That statement made both Oswald and Jim snap out of their trance; Oswald turned his head towards Robin, eyes searching him curiously. Edwidge muttered something under her breath, incredulous.

        “Hi, Oswald,” Robin said, waving at his counterpart. “Quite a mess we’re in, right?”

        “That’s an understatement. How did you manage to contact us?” Oswald asked, peering curiously at Robin and Jim.

        Edwidge nudged Jim so she could also look into the bowl. “All thanks to me and magic.”

        “Well, at least that works in Gotham.” Oswald sighed.

        “Listen, you two, Ms. Edwidge will help us swap places,” Robin said. “She’d like something in exchange. Ben, I think you can help us out with it. Uh…could you give Oswald an issue of a Batman comic before he returns?”

        Robin could feel Oswald’s, Jim’s and Edwidge’s eyes on him, but he ignored them. They only needed to know what was absolutely necessary, otherwise it could have negative effects.

        “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I have a few in my trailer, don’t worry,” Ben said, sending him an encouraging smile. “How will this exchange happen, though?”

        Edwidge leaned forward. “Alright, listen to me carefully. You must do exactly as I tell you. It has to happen this night. Take Mr. Cobblepot to the place where he emerged ‒ the portal should still be there. When the clock strikes 3:33 at night, you need to jump into the water, Mr. Cobblepot. Similarly, Robin will jump at the same time into the river here in Gotham, and you will hopefully end up in your correct worlds and the portal will close.”

        “I don’t like the sound of this,” Jim stated, hands on his hips. “You didn’t say anything about jumping into the water again. Do you know how many times Oswald was dumped into the river?!”

        “I’m sorry, Detective Gordon, I didn’t make up the rules. But Robin and Mr. Cobblepot need to use the same portal,” Edwidge said, crossing her arms.

        “It’s alright, Jim,” Oswald smiled weakly. “We’ll get it right, won’t we, Robin?”

        Robin nodded. “Of course.”

        He watched Jim’s face, worried expression still in place. _Oh, so that’s what this is about_ , Robin thought, fighting against a smile. Things made so much more sense now…

        “Be careful, alright?” Jim told Oswald, his eyes never leaving him during the whole conversation. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

        “3:33. Don’t forget my payment,” Edwidge said, and the image in the bowl started blurring, Oswald and Ben caught in the middle of waving goodbye.

 

* * *

 

        Robin and Jim sat at Jim’s table, eating the takeout they’d ordered. Jim had been oddly quiet for a while now. There were still six and half hours left before the deadline and Robin seriously didn’t want to spend all that in complete silence. But he wasn’t sure what to talk about.

        Luckily, it seemed Jim was of the same mind. “So, uh, it looked like Oswald and Ben are pretty close.”

        Robin blinked owlishly. He didn’t know what he’d expected Jim to talk about, but it certainly hadn’t been that. “I suppose. But it looked like Oswald was upset, so I think Ben was just being nice.”

        “Oh. Yeah.” Jim frowned. “But why would he be upset there? From what you’ve said everyone there is pretty nice.”

        Robin sat back in his chair, lips pursed as he thought. Why _would_ Oswald have been upset? It was possible he was just home sick but…that didn’t seem likely. Then it hit him. “Oh dear.”

        “What?” Jim asked, eyes narrowing.

        “I had totally forgotten – what with everything happening it’s not exactly the top of my priorities – but, well...” Robin winced. “I had a lunch planned with Carol Kane. She played Oswald’s mother on the show.”

        Jim grimaced. “Oh.”

        “Yeah.” Robin sighed. “That would certainly upset him.”

        “No kidding.” Jim shook his head. “But now I have to wonder if Oswald’s really going to want to come back.”

        Robin’s brows rose. “Why wouldn’t he? Gotham is his home.”

        Jim set his fork down and crossed his arms. “I think the answer’s obvious. Your world has everything for him. His mom, no-one’s out to kill him…people who’ll be nice to him.”

        “Maybe,” Robin replied, biting back a smile. “But it’s not his world. I don’t think Oswald would know what to do there. And maybe it has people who are like the ones he knows – but they’re not. A lot of them are completely different. And I think that will be enough to get him to come back.”

        “Even if they’re better people?” Jim asked.

        Robin nodded. “I feel like I know Oswald pretty well. I’ve been acting as him for three years now. Trust me, Jim.” He gave Jim a look. “Oswald will come back.”

        Jim averted his gaze.

        Robin grinned. “Besides, we both know Oswald’s desire for power. I think he’d find it’s not as easy to do that in my world.”

        “Oh really?” Jim snorted, looking back at Robin. “I guess that settles that then.”

        “It does,” Robin laughed.

 

* * *

 

        It was a bit past three in the morning when Jim and Robin made it to the river. They both sat in the car silently, nervous about what was going to happen. Although Gotham hadn’t been that bad ‒ except for some scary encounters ‒ Robin really didn’t think he could survive for long in this harsh world. He had a newfound respect for Oswald and his ability to always get back on his feet, despite the hardships he’d gone through.

        So that was why Robin thought that, despite the awful things Oswald had done, he also deserved some happiness. He had to tell Jim something before it was too late. “Maybe it’s not my place, but before I go, I need to tell you something.”

        Jim frowned. “Uh...okay.”

        “When we talked to Oswald through the bowl at Edwidge’s house, it seemed to me that you and Oswald...well, that you two seem to share a bond. I mean, of course I know about your history and everything, but I mean something more, something deeper.”

        Robin couldn’t be sure, since he could only rely on the dim light of the streetlamps, but it seemed to him as if Jim was blushing.

        “I’m not sure what you want to say with that,” Jim finally said.

        “Just that Oswald still holds you in high regard, Jim. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, he still considers you a friend and would do anything for you. I also know that you’ve been very worried about him, so maybe it’s time for you to reconsider your relationship.”

        Jim just stared at Robin, but didn’t say anything. Finally, when there were only five minutes left, they exited the car and braved the chilly night.

        Robin watched the dark water billow and he swallowed. This was a terrible idea, but probably the only option. Even if it turned out badly, at least he’d got a shot at happiness in life with Dickie, something that had eluded Oswald so far. He turned back towards the detective.

        “I mean it, Jim. Talk about your feelings when Oswald comes back. You can never know what might happen, maybe it will be too late the next time.”

        “Okay, I will,” Jim grumbled and got closer. “Two minutes to go.”

        Robin smiled, shivering when a gust of wind swept through them. “Thank you for everything. Don’t forget to take care of Milo.”

        “I won’t, I promise.” Jim put his hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Please, take care and try not to jump in the water anymore.”

        Robin glanced at his watch, less than a minute left. “Goodbye, Jim.”

        “Goodbye, Robin.”

        At 3:33 sharp, Robin jumped into the black river and hoped that it would work out. Underneath the water, he opened his eyes. He thought he could see something moving, but it was too dark. He hoped that when he emerged, it would be in New York and not Gotham.

 

* * *

 

        Gasping for air, Robin burst to the surface. There was a hand grabbing his shoulder, bringing him to the margin. “It’s alright, Robin, I got you.”

        “B-Ben?”

        “Yeah, it’s me, buddy, let’s get you out of here,” Ben said as he helped Robin out of the pool and put a towel around him, squeezing his shoulders affectionately. “It’s good to see you.”

        “You too,” Robin panted, wiping his face and hair with the towel. “I hope Oswald made it back safely.”

        “Me too,” Ben said thoughtfully, glancing at the pool. “So, Jim was supposed to wait for him on the other side? Is that a good idea?”

        “Yeah, yeah, absolutely.” Robin smiled. “Come, walk me to my trailer, I have something to tell you.”

 

* * *

 

        Oswald gasped and panted as he breached the surface of the water. He swam jerkily towards the shore and crawled out onto the river bank. As he regained his breath, a hand came into view. Oswald looked up. “Jim?”  
        Jim hauled Oswald to his feet. “Oswald?”  
        Before Oswald could properly respond, he was being wrapped in a fluffy towel and crushed against Jim’s chest. He could hear the crinkle of the plastic bag containing the weird comic book in his coat. Sighing, Oswald let his head drop to Jim’s shoulder. He was back.

 

* * *

  
        Dressed in clean, dry clothes, Oswald felt a lot better. He limped downstairs and into the living room of his manor, where Jim waited by the fireplace.   
        Jim turned and Oswald wasn’t entirely sure if he spotted a momentary smile. “Uh, so, are you okay?” His brows had furrowed in concern.  
        “Physically, yes. Emotionally? Well, I’m not sure right now,” Oswald answered honestly. He stopped in front of Jim. “This whole week has been very strange.”  
        Surprisingly, Jim chuckled. “You could say that again.” He sobered. Jim looked Oswald over, shook his head, and passed a hand over his mouth. “I wasn’t expecting you to want to come back to...here.” Jim rested his hands on his hips. “That other world sounded a lot nicer.”  
        Oswald tilted his head. “I almost didn’t,” he said. “But only for a moment. That world wasn’t mine. It wasn’t home.”  
        “Why not?” Jim asked, frowning. “You and Ben looked close. And from what Robin said, he’s a great person.”  
        If Oswald hadn’t known any better, he would have said Jim sounded jealous. “I wouldn’t say we were close. Ben was very nice to me, true, but I didn’t really know him. Besides he’s not-” Fighting off a blush, Oswald looked away. Had he not learned anything from Ed? Blurting out his feelings only got him in trouble.  
        “He’s not what?” Jim’s expression was suspicious.   
        Oswald shook his head. “Nothing.”  
        Jim strode forward, invading Oswald’s personal space. “Tell me.” Though Jim tried to sound demanding, it fell short.   
        Oswald’s pale green eyes met Jim’s cobalt blue. “He’s not...” He sighed. While it might not go well, he trusted Jim not to shoot him at least. “He’s not you, Jim.”

        Oswald wanted to flee, to hide his face, but Jim still didn’t let him go, expecting an elaboration of his statement. His gaze was pinning Oswald to the spot. “I like _you_...it’s always been you.”

        Jim looked down, pensive. “Why?”

        The question surprised Oswald; he wasn’t sure why Jim was so insistent. He shrugged, laughing nervously. “Love is illogical.”

        Oswald thought that sentence would scare Jim enough to drop the matter, but instead Oswald felt a light caress on his palm before Jim took his hand. He looked up and saw Jim swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I was really worried about you while you were away. I know you can survive anything, but this must have been scary even for you.”

        Jim’s thumb kept stroking Oswald’s hand distractingly. “But you had Robin to look after. All of his friends on set said he’s the nicest guy ever.”

        Jim’s mouth curved upward. “Robin’s, indeed, very nice, but he’s not you.”

        Oswald blushed at Jim repeating his words from earlier. Carefully, he intertwined his fingers with Jim’s. “And you’re okay with just me?”

        Jim smiled before he cupped Oswald’s face with his other hand. “More than okay.” He leaned in and captured Oswald’s lips in a sweet kiss, both of them feeling as if they finally found what they were looking for. If Oswald clung to Jim needily afterwards, neither of them mentioned it; they spent all night talking and kissing softly in front of the fireplace, then fell asleep in each other’s embrace.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you clicked on this directly, go back one chapter as this is already the epilogue. ;)

**Epilogue**

 

        Robin was checking his phone every two minutes, anxiously tapping his foot. He’d been back to New York for a couple of days now and he was waiting for Dickie’s plane to land at JFK airport. Reuniting with Finn was amazing, of course, but he was dying to see his husband.

        About fifteen minutes later, Robin saw a familiar face. Not caring about what other people would think, he started running and launched himself at Dickie, who had to drop his bag in order to catch him. Robin kissed him fiercely, his hands bunching tightly Dickie’s coat.

        “You’ve really missed me, haven’t you?” Dickie asked, smiling.

        Robin nodded and pressed one last kiss on his husband’s cheek before he put his arm around him and they headed towards the exit.

        “So, what have you been up to while I was away?”

        Robin snorted as he hailed a cab. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

 

* * *

 

        If someone had told Oswald that one day, he would wake up in bed with Jim, he’d have laughed. Then shot them. Because that was an impossible dream; and yet, here he was.

        Jim pressed a kiss to the top of Oswald’s head, where it rested against his bare chest. “Morning.”

        “Mmm, good morning,” Oswald replied, tilting his head up to peck Jim on the cheek.

        “Myeeeeeehh!” The whiny drawn out meow and soft clicking of claws on the hardwood floor announced Milo’s approach, interrupting Jim and Oswald. Sure enough, the kitten hopped up onto the bed moments later. With chirruping little mews, Milo scampered up to them and clambered onto Jim’s lap.

        Oswald laughed and reached out to gently scratch behind Milo’s ears. “And good morning to you too.”

        Milo twisted his head back to rub a furry cheek over Oswald’s fingers. Purring loudly, he turned back to headbutt Jim’s chest and chin. “Mrreeow!”

        Jim snorted. “Alright, fine.” He picked Milo up and rolled out of bed. “I’m going to go feed the brat. I’ll be right back.”

        “Good,” Oswald said, smiling.

        Jim returned minutes later. “How did I end up as the one taking care of the cat?”

        “Don’t complain, I know you secretly love him,” Oswald replied. He smirked. “Besides, he has you trained so well. I should take pointers, actually.”

        Jim raised an eyebrow. “Trained, huh?” he asked, dropping into bed. “Do I seem trained to you?” He tackled Oswald, playing his fingers over his sides.

        Oswald let out an embarrassing squeal as he was tickled. “ _ Jim! _ ” He pushed at Jim’s hands weakly, trying to squirm away. “Jim,  _ you _ -”

        “What was that?” Jim teased with a chuckle that was downright devious.

        “Okay,  _ okay _ , you haven’t been trained!” Oswald gasped out between laughs.

        Jim stopped the tickling and kissed Oswald’s nose. “Exactly.”

        Oswald pouted. However, when Jim only laughed, a smirk pulled at his lips. He smacked Jim with his pillow, getting a satisfying ‘oof’ from him. “So there.”

        Jim shook his head and pulled Oswald into his arms. “Maybe I’ve been trained a little.”

        “Oh, you definitely have,” Oswald agreed, looping his arms around Jim’s shoulders with a self-satisfied grin. “By me.”

        “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jim said and kissed Oswald soundly on the lips.

 


End file.
